


Meriope

by MrProphet



Series: The Gorgons [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 22:16:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 40,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10750908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrProphet/pseuds/MrProphet





	1. Agora

_Halicarnasus, on the planet Kritos_

In the valley of Halicarnasus the corn grew high and gold, grape-heavy vines tangled over the hillsides and the olive trees hunched together like gossiping old women. Far from the great cities, the Jaffa servants of the God-King Minos laboured in field and vineyard to supply his armies with food and clothing. The sun shone bright upon the valley and the rains were cool and refreshing. The brooks babbled their merry way from the mountains to the great river Aornis, which flowed on down to Knossos and thence to the sea.

In this valley, Meriope was born, the daughter of Euripides the shepherd and Dido the weaver. Her mother spent all day at her loom, for her skill was renowned and demand for her cloth was endless. Meriope's father was thus left to tend to the child alongside his flock; Euripides indulged his daughter to the point of spoiling and she grew up a wild creature.

Under Euripides' forgiving hand, Meriope roamed all along the western slopes of the valley, watched over only by the faithful sheep-dog, Argo. Such activity made young Meriope strong; being in the sun so much, her skin grew nut-brown and fair highlights were bleached in her dark hair. Her mother had been a respectable woman of good family before she defied them to marry a humble shepherd, but despite her own choice she despaired of the company her daughter kept; the bold, flirtatious shepherdesses and the vineyard hands with their soft eyes and wandering hands.

On the day that Meriope turned fourteen and underwent the prim'ta ceremony, Dido – fearing for Meriope's virtue – declared that her daughter would cease her wild ways and learn the weaver's craft. Learn Meriope did, but although she was happy to spend such time with her mother, it was not long before an order arrived from Knossos; fine red cloth to make a hundred cloaks for the élite of Minos' army; the Taurus Guard. Such was no work for an apprentice; Dido released her daughter and Meriope returned to her beloved slopes.

A sixteen, Dido tried once more to curb her daughter's wanderings. She bought a second loom this time and once more Meriope set to the work of a weaver without complaint. Dido swore that this time she would set aside all work save the training of her daughter, but once more an order from Knossos – an order which could not be refused – intervened. Minos himself commanded that the renowned Dido of Halicarnasus weave a bolt of fine cloth to adorn his favourite daughter. Such a delicate weave as was required would require all of Dido's concentration and so Meriope was released once more.

Dido began to despair of ever reigning in her daughter and she watched with trepidation as Meriope blossomed into a woman. Meriope was not so lost as her mother feared, however. The company of shepherdesses did indeed give her much knowledge of the world for so young a girl and there were many vineyard hands eager to help her put that knowledge into practice, but the lesson which she learned first and best was how to say ‘no'. For all the kisses that she enjoyed – and enjoy them she did, for her nature was as passionate as her father's – as Meriope grew from wild girl to wilful woman, no man had more of her than that.

At twenty-one, Meriope was as fine a shepherdess as any in Halicarnasus. Argo was long-since retired, but his granddaughter, Cruine, served Meriope well. That was the year when Dido abandoned all hope of making her daughter respectable. Her lessons had not all been in vain, and Meriope knew how to spin and weave, but it was clear that she would never match her mother's standards. Dido reluctantly took an apprentice – a niece with clever hands and good manners – and gave Meriope her license to do as she would with her life.

It was in this year that Euripides first allowed his only child to accompany him to the Market.

 

There were many markets on Kritos, but only the Halicarnasan town of Agora played host, eight times each year, to _the_ Market. Jaffa and humans alike came from across Kritos to trade their goods with the folk of the valley and at the great Harvest Market even the gods themselves might deign to walk among the mortals.

The Market at Agora dealt in the produce of the valley, but it was more than that. It was a time for tradesmen and artisans to advertise their services and for labourers to look for work. Apprentices were taken and marriages brokered; news was relayed and gossip exchanged. Sometimes officers of the army, even the Taurus Guard themselves, would come and choose the strongest and bravest of the young men to serve as warriors of Minos – and the prettiest maidens to be their wives, or more commonly, their mistresses. At Harvest, when the gods walked among their worshippers, they would sometimes take any who pleased them to become their personal servants.

When Meriope first came down from the hills it was the Market before Harvest. She had never before set foot on the valley floor and as she walked alongside her two closest friends she could not help but stare at the golden fields and the huge beasts which grazed in the green pastures. She was unused to such wide, flat open spaces. Here and there, men rode on horses; a miraculous sight to Meriope. The ponies of the hills were too small to carry anyone but a child and each of these skilled riders seemed almost to be a part of his steed. Legend had it that the horsemen of the valley could speak the language of horses and Meriope could almost believe it.

"Do not stare, Meriope," Rathe warned. The young man was the son of Euripides' neighbour; three years older than Meriope and trusted enough to bring the early pressings of wine and olive oil to Market on his own. Meriope had always looked up to Rathe, but even he could not persuade her to mask her wide-eyed wonder.

"What are they?" Meriope asked.

"They are cows, dear heart," Nissa replied, with the patience of a loving parent. Although only a year older than Meriope she had been to five Markets already and was affecting a knowing air around her young friend. "Honestly, Meriope; if you continue to show us up like this, we shall have to avoid you."

"I am sorry," Meriope said. "I just...Oh! What is that?"

As they came closer to Agora, the roads grew thick with traffic. Meriope began to understand why each of the sheep they had brought with them had been daubed with a splash of blue dye. It would be easy for even the most cautious shepherd to lose a sheep in this press and hard to prove that one was yours, even if it showed up again.

Meriope felt subdued and excited at the same time. She wished that Rathe and Nissa could be seeing this for the first time as well, so that they could share in this feeling. Meriope also felt a growing wariness. She had never seen so many people in one place at the same time and an awful lot of them seemed to be staring at her. When she mentioned this, Rathe laughed and she felt self-conscious, ashamed of her plain dress and rustic appearance.

What Rathe saw that Meriope did not was that three hours of Dido's time had not been wasted. For all the men who had pursued her it had never occurred to Meriope that she might be beautiful, but her tangled hair had been transformed into a glossy mane; her skin had been scrubbed until it glowed; her dress _was_ plain, but the quality of her mother's cloth spoke for itself. Not one woman in thirty in that crowd looked as fine and as elegant as Meriope.

Unable to understand the stares, Rathe's amusement, or the jealous edge which crept into Nissa's superior tone, Meriope hid herself away among the sheep. At last, Euripides, fearing his wife's anger if he allowed the sheep to nibble any more of Meriope's gown, ordered her out of the fold and sent her to fetch lunch for them both.

"The rooms at the shepherds' hall are good, but the food is slop," he told her, pressing a five sheshta coin into her hand. "I can't be seen to shun the hospitality of the hall, but no-one knows you. Be a good lass and slip across the road to the taverna; get us something good and a little to drink with it, then sneak back in."

Meriope was afraid to leave the safety of the sheep fold even to enter the shepherds' hall – a building maintained by subscriptions from the hill farmers as a lodging house and guild hall – let alone to go beyond it, but she obeyed. Euripides shook his head as she left, wondering what she would say when she learned that each shepherd in the hall attended to his or her own provisioning.

 

The taverna was an assault on Meriope's senses. The noise of the crowd was incredible; the heavy scent of the food and drink – and of the people – made her giddy. What was most remarkable – and most alarming – were the faces. Shepherd-folk whom she had known for years suddenly looked like strangers, each one closed-off and suspicious in this strange environment.

Meriope spun around at a slap on her behind, but the crowd was too dense for her to see who had done it. She was unnerved by such an impersonal assault; in the hills she had been slapped, pinched, grabbed hold of and even kissed, with neither warning nor provocation – and indeed, had herself done all four to others – but always the perpetrator had been plain to see and open to whatever retaliation she deemed appropriate.

Close to the counter another unseen hand pinched Meriope and as she turned her foot slipped. Still dizzy from the closeness of the air she half-fell, but a hand caught her and held her up.

"Easy there, Jaffa," a friendly voice laughed.

"I am fine!" Meriope snapped, snatching her arm back. Again she moved too fast and too violently, however. She was still off-balance and began to fall again; this time the man caught her around the waist and pulled her upright.

"No disrespect intended, I am sure," he said, steadying her on her feet before releasing her.

Meriope turned and looked her rescuer over. He was a big man with large hands, but his grip had nonetheless been gentle. His handsome face was broad and honest, but his brown eyes sparkled with a sharp intelligence and wry humour. He was smiling at her and she smiled back, feeling strangely awkward.

"I...I was dizzy," she said.

"First time at the market?"

"No," she insisted, not wanting to seem like a naïve girl. It seemed odd, but she wanted him to think well of her and Rathe and Nissa's jibes still stung.

"What do you need?" he asked, kindly.

"Supper," she replied. "For father and me."

The man turned and waved to catch the attention of the man behind the counter. The taverna keeper came over and greeted Meriope's companion like an old friend. Their speech dropped into the valley dialect as they spoke and Meriope lost the thread of their conversation almost at once. The barkeeper turned away without speaking to Meriope.

"Where is he going?" Meriope demanded. "I haven't ordered."

"Trust me," the man replied. "I know what's worth buying here. You're a shepherd, aren't you?"

"That's right," she said. "Although I can also spin and weave."

"Is the dress your own work?"

Meriope's face flamed. "No! It is just...This old thing..."

"It does not look old," he noted. "It is quite beautiful."

"Oh." Meriope was taken aback. "Well...I did sew it, but my mother wove the cloth."

He nodded. "She must be a mistress of her craft."

"She is the finest weaver in all Kritos," Meriope replied, proudly.

The barkeeper returned and laid a wrapped bundle and a clay bottle on the counter. "Two and forty," he told her.

Meriope handed him her silver coin and he returned two large, bronze sheshta pieces and a pair of copper ten-sheshti bits. "Thank you, sir," she said.

"Welcome," the barkeeper replied. He nodded to the man, then turned to another customer.

Meriope's newfound friend swept up the bundle, dropped it into his sling bag, then took Meriope by the hand and led her through the crowd to the exit. In the light of day she could see him more clearly and realised with a start that he was only a little older than her.

"That's mine," Meriope challenged, once the fresh air had cleared her head a little.

"And mine," he assured her. "I asked Talus to wrap our food together; that way he charges you what he charges me instead of the Market price."

"Give me my food," she demanded.

He smiled a kind smile. "You're very defensive for someone who has been to market so often. Let me carry your food for you and we can dine together," he suggested.

"Why?"

"Because I would very much like to break bread with you. If...If you do not mind, that is?"

Meriope felt more flustered than ever. She had known many men wish to kiss her – and more than that – but never had one asked to share a meal with her and her father. That was serious. She looked at him again, searching for any sign of duplicity; she found none. "N-no," she stammered at last. "I don't mind."

He breathed a sigh of pure relief. "I am honoured," he told her. "My name is Damos."

"Meriope."

Damos gave a broad smile. "Welcome to Agora, Meriope."

*

For the five days of Market, Damos was rarely far from Meriope's side. On the road home, Nissa grilled her mercilessly, probing for every detail of her time with the young farmer. For the next few days her friends teased her mercilessly about the way her face went red whenever Damos' name was mentioned. After that, something changed, however. Rathe grew surly and after a day or so this mood infected Nissa. Relations between the three friends grew tense, for no reason Meriope could identify, and it was a great relief to her when Damos himself rode up from the valley to order some cloth for his mother.

"I am told that you are the finest weaver in all Kritos," he confided in Dido as they discussed business over a light meal. "I see from the wares in your workshop that you have not been oversold."

"I am delighted that my work is appreciated," Dido replied. She turned a shrewd glance towards Meriope, who blushed. "Sometimes I have feared that the value of great weaving is lost on my daughter."

As Damos was preparing to leave, Meriope approached him, awkwardly. "I beg your pardon, Jaffa," she said, politely.

"Yes, Meriope?" he replied, then looked uncertain. "I may still call you by your name?"

"Yes! Of course, Damos."

He smiled. "Then what may I do for you, _Jaffa_?"

Meriope laughed. "May I..." she began. "May I ride your horse, please?"

"You had better ask her that," Damos replied.

Meriope stared at him, trying to see if he was joking, but he seemed serious and he would not allow her to mount his powerful mare until she had politely asked the horse if it would mind. The mare said nothing.

"I usually assume that means no, she wouldn't mind," Damos assured her. He offered his hands for her to step on and boosted her into the high saddle.

Almost at once, Meriope felt giddy.

"Do not cling so tight," Damos warned, as the horse fidgeted, nervously. "You will make her anxious.

"I will make her anxious?" Meriope clung a little tighter. The mare bucked, frightened by the gripping thing on her back. Meriope almost fell, but Damos caught the mare's reins, held her head gently and murmured to her. Slowly she calmed and as the horse grew calmer so to did Meriope until at last she could loosen her grip.

"Come down now," Damos suggested.

Meriope offered no argument. "You make it look so easy," she said, admiringly.

"It is not," he assured her. "Maybe I will teach you some day?"

"Maybe," she agreed.

Twenty days later, Damos returned with a cart to collect his mother's order. When Meriope went down to Agora, five days after that, she did not bother with a pretext.

Damos was unlike anyone Meriope had met before. He did not act as the shepherds and the vineyard hands did; he did not even look like them. It was said that all the people of Halicarnasus had once been one, but over the generations the vale-folk had grown taller while the hill-folk grew smaller, with those of the lower slopes being somewhere in between. There was a joke among the Halicarnasans that eventually the heights would diverge so much that the giant vale-folk would have their heads at the same height as the hill-folk, although their feet were far below. Dido came from the lower slopes and Meriope had inherited her mother's height, but Damos was tall even by valley standards. Despite his size, however, he was as gentle as a lamb; gentler, for Meriope knew how savage a panicked lamb could be. He was very attractive, once one looked past the novelty of his stature, and made no secret of his attraction towards her.

Damos seemed always to be in less of a hurry than the hill-folk. It seemed strange to Meriope; in contrast to the sedate shepherding lifestyle, a farmer always had things to do, yet he was never rushing. It was the same with her as with his work: He was generous and attentive, but although Meriope had resolved on the second day of their acquaintance that she would give herself to this man where she had resisted all others, he made no move to take advantage of her. It was only when she visited him on his father's farm in Agora that he even plucked up the courage to ask her – to ask, no less – for a kiss.

Damos' father had a small holding in the east of the valley, where the family grew barley, raised a small herd of milk cows and kept an orchard of apple trees. When she visited, Damos showed all of this to Meriope, leading a sedate old gelding with Meriope perched on its back. The fields were broad and yet it seemed a very small world compared to the hills. Nevertheless, it was his and Meriope loved it, because she loved him.

"Do you want me?" she asked him one day, as they sat side-by-side in the orchard.

"I love you," he replied. He put his arms around her and she felt the urgent tremble which filled her at his touch answered by a similar shudder in his breast.

She never needed to ask again.

 

At the Harvest Market, Dido accompanied her husband and daughter to Agora, ostensibly to sell some of her cloth. In fact the cloth was given freely to Damos' family, who in return presented Meriope's parents with several amphorae of their best cider. That night, the two families, their friends and their neighbours dined on mutton and beef, grapes and bread and barley meal, vine leaves and figs, as they feasted in celebration of the formal pledging of Damos and Meriope to one another.

Following the customs of Halicarnasus, their parents arranged all of the details of the formal stages of their marriage. They decided that, since the couple were still very young, a full engagement should not be undertaken for another five years. Until then they would only be pledged, bound by their parents' will but not by their own oaths. There would follow another five years of betrothal until the handfasting and five more before the couple were finally and irrevocably wed. Meriope took in these arrangements without much interest; in her heart they had been joined since the day they met.

Nissa was thrilled by Meriope's pledging; Rathe was less so and at last Meriope began to understand his moodiness of late. Rathe had been the first boy that she had ever kissed – when she was just twelve, in the cramped confines of a tool-shed in a thunderstorm – and he had pursued her on-and-off ever since, when he had not been chasing after Nissa. Meriope had considered this only fun and games, but if Rathe had been more serious then her pledging might have hit him hard. Since he had ostensibly been courting Nissa for much of the past year, that might also have explained _her_ moods. She was greatly concerned, therefore, when Rathe could not be found on the third night of the Market.

 

The next day, to Meriope's great relief, Rathe returned, safe and sound.

"Where have you been?" Nissa demanded, with angry tears in her eyes.

Rathe grinned, slightly foolishly, and pulled aside his jacket. On his belt he wore a forked dagger; the mark of a warrior.

Nissa was horrified. "What have you done?" she demanded.

"I have joined the army of the God-king," he replied. "I will go to Knossos and train to be an auxiliary. If I do well, I may be picked for service in a regular company."

"Congratulations, Rathe!" Meriope exclaimed.

Nissa was rather less delighted. "Are you insane?"

"This is a great honour, Nissa," Meriope gasped. "How can you not be pleased for Rathe?"

"He is no warrior," Nissa snorted.

"Primus Arkos thinks otherwise," Rathe crowed.

"Who?" Meriope asked.

"Primus Arkos of the Taurus Guard," Rathe replied. "I think that Nissa knows him."

Nissa's face grew pale and her eyes flashed with rage. "Do not be a fool, Rathe!" she begged him. "You do not have to do this."

"What else would I do?" Rathe demanded, his air of jubilation cracking to reveal a deep bitterness. "With you in Knossos and Meriope to be wed, why would I want to stay at home?"

Meriope was taken aback. "You also are leaving?" she asked Nissa.

Nissa blushed. "Primus Arkos has asked me to return with him," she admitted. "I said yes."

"Then you also are to be married!"

Rathe gave a bitter laugh. "Not to the Primus," he assured Meriope.

Nissa's blush deepened. She made no attempt to refute Rathe's assertion; she simply turned and hurried away with what remained of her dignity.

"That was cruel," Meriope accused Rathe.

"I only spoke the truth," he replied, in a voice raw with pain.

Slowly, Meriope began to realise just how complex a web of emotions she had shattered with her pledging. To her, the youngest of the three, her friendship with Rathe and Nissa had seemed so simple. "Will you come back for my engagement?" she asked, not daring to hope. She need not have worried.

"Try to keep me away," he challenged.

 

Six days later, Meriope stood with her husband-to-be and watched her friends leave in the company of Arkos and his fellow Taurus Guards. She had never seen the élite before, resplendent in their bull helms, surrounded by a mantle of arrogant supremacy. Meriope prayed that her friends would be happy, but the grim splendour of Minos' royal guard gave her little cause for hope.

Meriope bid her friends farewell, and watched them go with a wistful expression which Damos was not slow to note.

"You wish that they were staying?"

"That I were going," she replied

Damos looked startled. "You would be a warrior's..."

"No!" Meriope gasped. "Oh, no. I did not mean that. I meant..." She paused, uncertain; although less shameful, her true desire must seem even more ridiculous to her husband. "I would be a warrior," she admitted at last. "This world of yours is fine and beautiful, my love, but it feels too small for me. The valley itself seems to stifle me at times."

Damos was alarmed. "Meriope..."

"It is a dream," she assured him. "A fantasy; nothing more. I would dearly love to Knossos and follow the gods across the stars, but I know it is not to be. My place is here, at Halicarnasus."

"It must seem hard to you."

"It did, once," she replied, "but now my heart dwells here." She held him close and kissed him. She had kissed so many men and yet each time her lips met Damos' it felt new and fresh; as exciting as her first, fevered kiss with Rathe, but far more comfortable and not just because she did not have a rooting trowel in the small of her back.

Meriope sighed, contentedly. "If all my dreams came true, then wherever I might travel my heart would yearn to come home to you.

*

The next five years seemed to fly past in a blur and at that fifth Harvest since their pledging, Meriope and Damos exchanged tokens and promises and were by their own wills betrothed. As their parents had decreed their union five years ago, now it was their turn. On that same day, Meriope moved into Damos' house, to live as a part of her betrothed's family for the next five years.

It was a time of joy, yet tragedy almost struck when one of the visiting warriors took a fancy to Meriope during a chance encounter in Agora. Despite her protests that she was betrothed, the warrior would not be dissuaded and tried to take Meriope for his own. Fortunately he had reckoned without a childhood spent on the slopes, fending off over-eager young men.

"You witch!" the warrior exclaimed, recoiling in pain and shock. He recovered faster than she had expected and grappled her before she could flee. She screamed and struggled but he bore down on her with his superior strength and began to drag her out of sight of the nervous witnesses. No civilian wanted to interfere with a warrior of the God-king.

"Kree, Jaffa!"

The warrior looked up and received a powerful blow to his solar plexus. He staggered away from Meriope, who recovered and flung a handful of dust into her attacker's eyes. While he was still reeling, she stepped forward and swung two punches at the Jaffa. Strong arms grabbed hold of her and pulled her back, out of the space between the houses and into the open air again.

"Witch!" her attacker roared again.

"Jaffa! Stand down!"

As Meriope calmed she saw that she had been rescued by two other warriors, one dressed as a Taurus Guard.

"Kree, Jaffa! Stand down!" The Taurus Guard repeated.

"I...Yes, Primus," the warrior said.

"Return to the camp, Jaffa. I will deal with you later."

"Yes, Primus," the warrior mumbled, stumbled away.

"My apologies, Mistress," the Primus said to Meriope. "Are you harmed?"

"Nothing permanent," Meriope assured him. "Your friend can let go of me now," she added. "I will not charge after your warrior."

"He is not my friend," the Primus said. "He is just an auxiliary. Rathe."

The arms released Meriope.

"Rathe?" she asked, turning to face him. "Rathe!" She flung her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

"It is good to see you, Meriope," Rathe replied. "But Primus Arkos..."

"Of course. Thank you for your assistance, Primus," Meriope said, bowing to the Taurus Guard.

"His behaviour was unworthy of a Jaffa in the service of the God-king."

"We are all servants of Minos," Meriope said, obediently.

"Of course. As you are well I shall leave you in the auxiliary's capable hands." He bowed, politely. "Jaffa."

"Primus."

The Taurus Guard left and Meriope hugged Rathe once more. "You look so grown up," she told him. "It suits you well."

"Regrets?" Rathe asked, lightly.

"None," she replied, "save that my so-called friends managed to miss my engagement."

Rathe hung his head in shame. "I am sorry, Meriope. We tried, but there was a delay on the road. There are always people along the road wanting the assistance of Minos' warriors. A group of foresters asked Primus Arkos for the assistance of the Taurus Guard in hunting down a rogue dogran."

"And the Taurus Guard delegated to you?" Meriope asked.

"Sorry."

"And what about Nissa? What's her excuse?"

Rathe beamed.

_*_

"Betrothed?" Meriope exclaimed.

"For two years now," Nissa confirmed, holding tight to Rathe's hand. "With our parents so far away there was no pledging."

"When will you be handfasted?" Meriope asked. "Who will stand with you?"

"Before the end of the Market," Rathe replied.

Meriope was taken aback. "So soon?"

Nissa blushed. "We have only waited so long because we agree that there is no other than you to stand with me," she added. "We want to be joined before the child is born."

"Nissa!"

"Oh, do not looked so shocked, Meriope," Nissa retorted, good-naturedly. "Did you think I would sit chaste for five years? Arkos did not take me with him for my conversation and once you have a reputation as a cron'bah, restraint becomes rather pointless. Anyway, Rathe and I had lain together long before I met Arkos."

"What?"

"You did not know?" Rathe sounded surprised. "Did you not realise that I only became a warrior so that I could follow Nissa to Knossos? I have become rather good at it."

Nissa laughed. "But do not think that he saved himself while I was with Arkos."

Meriope was scandalised. To her it was only natural that she should have saved herself for Damos and that – having overcome her moment of temptation – they should wait until the night of their handfasting to lie together. This being the case, she had never considered that her friends would do otherwise. Even when Nissa became a cron'bah – a battle crow, as women who gave themselves to warriors out of marriage were known – she had not let herself think what that meant.

"So," Meriope asked, seeking a change of subject. "When do you go back to Knossos?"

"We do not," Rathe replied. "I have not been selected as a regular and so I have been returned to the militia of Halicarnasus. I may be called up to fight, but until then I shall live here; we shall live here."

"As man and wife," Nissa added, " _if_ you will stand by a worn-out old cron'bah, Meriope?"

"Of course I shall," Meriope replied. "I am sorry; I should have answered that first."

"Thank you," Nissa said.

"And perhaps you could do me a favour in return?" Meriope asked Rathe.

"Name it, my dear friend," he said.

"Teach me to fight."

Her friends were so quiet that Meriope could have heard a pin drop.

"I do not want to have to be rescued ever again," Meriope explained.

"I am no Jaffa master," Rathe demurred. "I can not teach you much."

"I do not ask much," she assured him. "Just teach me what you can."

*

For three years, Meriope learned how to fight; it was a welcome distraction from the dragging crawl of time. If the pledged years had flown, her betrothal crept by like a worm. Living in Damos' house, seeing him and hearing him every day, touching him without being able to take that final step was torment for Meriope. Only her love for him kept her going and only her stubborn determination to be properly and decently bound to him kept her resolve strong. In some ways it helped that his family clearly expected her to give in to her base passions; proving them wrong provided a useful challenge to focus her efforts.

After three years, Rathe was called away to fight. Meriope woke early one morning to the blare of hunting horns. She rose, saddled her horse and rode into town, where the militia were mustering. The militia was made up of local auxiliaries trained in Knossos but who had not been selected for the regular companies. At the edge of the square the militia's families were gathered; Meriope located Nissa, who held her child and watched with fear in her eyes as Rathe, armed and armoured, lined up with the other auxiliaries behind the regular who had come to summon them.

"I am so frightened," Nissa whispered, fighting to hide her fear from Rathe. "What if he never comes back? What if I have to raise Acastus alone?"

Meriope put her arms around her friend. "Never alone," she promised her. "Where are they going?"

Nissa shrugged. "They haven't bothered to tell anyone," she explained, sadly.

"Shh." Meriope hugged her friend tight. "He will be back. I promise you."

 

Meriope was right; Rathe did return, less than a month later, but he came back a changed man. His eyes seemed haunted, but he spoke with wonder in his voice of the world where he had fought and killed for the gods. Meriope still envied his freedom, but she saw for the first time how high a price he paid for it.

There was more as well. "I am afraid that I can no longer train you," he told Meriope. He sounded sad, but there was pride in his voice as well; and fear. "You have been an excellent student, but I have entered the service of one of the God-king's Captains. This is a great honour, but Nissa and I must move to her great hall at Akrotiri."

Meriope was disappointed, but she was delighted for Rathe and something that he had said struck her and caught her attention. "Your captain is a woman?"

Rathe nodded his head. "Some of her warriors, even her élite, are women also."

"Will you speak of me to them, Rathe?"

Rathe looked doubtful. "It might be presumptuous of me," he said.

"Please, Rathe!"

"I do not think that you would truly care for such a life, Meriope," he told her. "You are such a joyous woman; I can not believe that you were born to be a killer."

"Death is not the goal of battle," Meriope insisted.

"You are such a romantic," he told her, his voice shaking. "But I shall do as you ask."

*

Meriope heard little from Rathe and Nissa until they returned to Halicarnasus for her handfasting. It was once more a Harvest Market when the young couple stood before the priest and were joined to one another for the next five years. In that time they would live as a married couple, but either could claim a grievance and set the other aside without penalty. If no hindrance emerged they would be wed and then they would be bound together for life.

Rathe and Nissa returned without announcement on the first day of the Market and the day before the ceremony. Rathe wore the trappings of his new office, red and bronze armour which fit him like a glove; unlike his third hand militia armour. The couple must have been doing well, for Nissa's dress –which matched the colours of her husband's uniform – was finely tailored and cut from cloth that could only have come from Dido's loom. They brought with them their two children, Acastus and Antigone.

A third Jaffa travelled with them; a woman, young and pretty, with blue-black hair which she wore in a boyish cut. She sat with Rathe and Nissa during the ceremony of handfasting and played with their children at the feast, but her eyes always rested on Meriope. Her gaze made Meriope feel nervous; there was something weighty and portentous in it.

Not even such an exceptional stranger could long distract Meriope, however. This was the day of her handfasting and her thoughts and emotions all leaned towards Damos. She was barely away from his side all day, but tradition demanded that he take a dance with his bride-to-be's mother and once Meriope stood alone the young stranger approached her.

"I am impressed," she said. "Few couples reach the day of their handfasting so chaste. If I may be so bold, I should say that bodes well for your future."

Meriope laughed, lightly, and accepted the good wishes with a bow. She had a thousand questions for this woman – who must surely be one of the warrior women Rathe had spoken of, for all that she wore a red and gold gown instead of armour – but it seemed rude not to respond to such praise. "Damos' mother is a hawk," she said. "We have had no chance to do anything."

"You would have found a way," the other woman assured Meriope. "But more than that, to find a couple who have known no lovers between them is to find one of the marvels of the universe. I am Naio," she added.

Now, Meriope wanted to ask how Naio could be sure that Damos was as pure as she was. Her husband's sexual experience was a question that had haunted her sometimes and she would have breathed easier to know for sure. More than this, however, Meriope decided that she needed to know who this woman was.

"You serve the same captain as Rathe?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. Rathe told me of you, Meriope. I was intrigued and I decided that I should see you for myself."

Meriope was taken aback. "You did?"

Naio nodded. "You seem to have the makings of a fine warrior already," she said.

Meriope's heart soared. "Then you will take me to be trained?"

"Certainly not," Naio replied.

"What?" Meriope was dismayed. "Why not?"

Naio smiled, kindly. "Your mind and heart would be here, child; with your beloved. To snatch you from your nuptial bed would cheat us all: I would have a distracted warrior; your husband would have an absent wife; and you would have a divided soul. I doubt you would ever forgive yourself for giving us less than your all."

"You know me so well?" Meriope demanded, hotly.

"I know that you have saved yourself for your wedding night in the face of considerable temptation. That tells me all that I need to know; you are not a woman who could be happy giving only a little of herself. Be patient, my dear; you are a Jaffa and your years are many. After five of those years you will be married in full; perhaps we shall speak again at that time."

*

Meriope's disappointment was short-lived. Now that they were handfasted, Meriope and Damos lived together as man and wife. From their separate rooms the couple moved into a shared bedroom and at last their long wait was over. Her wedding night was all that she had hoped and the next few months were a time of bliss.

Unfortunately, her happiness was not long to be unmarred. There was no way to know if the fault – if fault there was – lay with her or with Damos, but after eight months of trying it became all-too clear that as a couple at least they could never have children.

For another year they tried every remedy known to every midwife, herbalist and priest in Halicarnasus, but to no avail. Damos assured his wife that it was not important for them to have a child this soon, but Meriope found that she felt the need rather more keenly. In her desperation, Meriope donned the robes of a pilgrim and took the long road to Knossos in order to seek the blessings of the God-king. Few supplicants were received by Minos, but those who were invariably bore a child within the year.

Barefoot, Meriope laboured her way to the city and walked through the streets to the outer door of the great labyrinth that surrounded the palace. She was on the threshold of the shrine of the intercessor priests when a hand on her arm drew her back.

Meriope turned, twisting to break the grip but it held firm. She raised her fist to strike at her assailant, but froze in astonishment when she saw that the one who had seized her was Naio.

 

"How did you know I was here?" Meriope asked.

"I have my spies," Naio admitted, "and you are of interest to me."

"Do you wish me to remain childless?" Meriope demanded. "Do...do you fear that if I had a child I would not want to serve your Captain?"

Naio smiled. "That ambition seems less important now, does it not?"

"Tell me why you do not want me to receive the God-king's blessing!"

Naio laid a hand on Meriope's arm. She glanced around, leading Meriope's own gaze with hers. Meriope blushed to realise that everyone in the taverna was staring at her.

"What I wish is for you to remain Meriope," Naio replied, calmly. She dropped her voice to a whisper. "Minos can not bless you and your husband with a child. If he sees you – and I believe that your beauty will assure it – he will ‘bless' you by forcing his own seed upon you. You might well have a child but I do not think that either you or Damos would be happy with that."

For a long time, Meriope could only stare. "What?" she asked at last, shocked and baffled.

"Go home to Damos," Naio said. "I know it hurts that you can not give him a child, but you can still be happy in each other. In three years and four months I will see you again."

"There may not be a wedding," Meriope said. "If I can not bear his children then Damos would be entitled to sever our handfasting."

"It is true that this is his right," Naio admitted, "but I do not believe that he will do so. I will come whether you are married or not, but I truly believe that I will have a wedding to attend when I am next in Halicarnasus."

"This means so much to us," Meriope said. "Damos will be devastated if we can not have a family. As will I."

"I know," Naio assured her. "That is why you must go home as swiftly as possible. He will need you and you will need him." The warrior-woman pressed a heavy purse into Meriope's hand. "Travel fast, Meriope; go home and be with your love."

 

With Naio's money, Meriope garbed herself in a new robe and good, sturdy boots, then bought a horse and rode home to Agora. She was home within a week and all but flung herself from the saddle into her husband's arms.

"I've missed you so," he whispered into her ear. So much had he missed her that he did not ask for several hours whether her pilgrimage had been successful.

"We are not to be blessed," she replied, evasively.

Damos looked crestfallen. "Did the priests give a reason?"

Meriope shook her head.

"As the gods will it," Damos sighed.

Meriope said nothing of Naio's words, not to Damos or to anyone else. She tried to hide it, but she was sorely troubled. In search of some peace of mind, Meriope went to the one person she knew might understand: Nissa's mother, Gallia. In the early years of her own marriage, Gallia had made the pilgrimage to Knossos and gone on to bear her only child.

Gallia lived in the hills, not far from Meriope's parents. Her husband, Padam, was a shepherd who grazed his sheep on the hills to the north of Euripides' pastures and the couple dwelt in a large and comfortable house. They had built the house for the children they had wanted, but since Nissa had proven to be their only joy they let a large part of the house to one of Padam's shepherds and indulged their frustrated parental instincts with his children.

"It is good to see you," Gallia told her, hugging her tightly and leading her into the house. "We miss you in the hills, Meriope."

"I miss all of you," Meriope replied, "and I miss the hills, but my home is with Damos."

Gallia sat the younger woman down. "What brings you to my door? You look troubled, my dear girl."

"I can not give my husband a child," Meriope admitted.

"I am sorry," Gallia assured her.

Meriope looked at her, curiously. "I notice you do not advise me to seek the blessing of the God-king. Were you not a supplicant at the labyrinth?"

Gallia averted her eyes. "I...Yes, I was, but...did I not hear that you had already taken the road?"

"I did," Meriope admitted. "I was not seen, but he saw you, did he not? He blessed you, did he not. What form did that blessing take?"

Something odd shimmered in Gallia's eyes as she replied: "He laid his hand upon my belly, spoke his blessing in the divine tongue and told me that I would bear my husband a child within the year."

"I see," Meriope said, doubtfully. "I was warned that the process was more..." She paused, awkwardly and before she could continue, Gallia burst into tears.

"I am sorry, Mistress Gallia; I meant no offence, " Meriope hurried to assure the older woman. "Please do not cry, Mistress."

"There is no offence, Meriope," Gallia replied. "I weep for shame at the lie I have maintained for over thirty years. I could not tell; I knew that my husband would have abandoned me if he ever found out. I heard that you were going and I wanted to warn you but..." She erupted in fresh floods of tears and fell to her knees before the younger woman. "I am sorry, Meriope. Oh, please forgive me!"

Meriope put her arms around the older woman. "There is nothing to forgive," she assured Gallia. "I was prevented from entering the intercessor's temple. I am sorry to have woken such memories, Mistress."

"Such memories never sleep," Gallia replied.

"It is true then?" Meriope asked.

"That the God-king's blessing...That it takes the form of a _violation_?" Gallia shuddered uncontrollably. "Yes; it is true. After I was admitted to his sanctum, he took me without ritual and without pity. I spent nine days recovering in the temple infirmary from the things which he had done to me; nine days before I could even walk. I left as soon as my legs would carry me and let my symbiote heal me on the road. I could not stay there; I knew that he would have forgotten me as soon as I was gone from his presence, but the fear that he would send for me again...Even in my home, here, I sometimes wake in a cold sweat, certain that he is coming back for me."

"Mistress..."

Gallia looked up and laid a hand on her cheek. "No. I am only happy that devil did not touch you, dear Meriope. I shall pray to any god but him that your union should be blessed and I shall thank those same gods for the one who prevented your entry into the precinct."

"Thank you, Mistress Gallia."

 

Meriope spent that evening with her parents in a sullen mood. The next day she returned to her married home and in the privacy of their bedchamber she told her husband everything. Sitting on the edge of their bed, she confided in him all that had happened – from her encounter at the temple to her meeting with Gallia – and all of her fears for the future.

Damos took it in his stride. "So, Nissa is of divine blood?"

"It appears so," Meriope replied. "It seems strange. Nissa is lovely, without a doubt."

"I always thought so," Damos teased.

Meriope gave a weak smile. "Still; I would not have thought her a demigod."

"Is Gallia certain that it was Minos himself who...you know?"

"She believed it and I believe her, and I believe Naio. Besides; would it have mattered to you which other man fathered a child on your wife?"

"No," he admitted. "But I was not thinking of that. I was merely thinking: If Nissa is a child of Minos, and if Minos possesses no more power to bless a woman with child than any man – well, any man save me – then perhaps..." He stopped, appalled by his own thoughts.

"I had wondered that myself," Meriope admitted. "That perhaps Minos is not...But it is not for us to think such thoughts," she added, hastily.

"No," Damos agreed, half-heartedly. "But if he can not bless us with a child then there is nowhere left for us to turn."

Meriope clasped her hands in her lap and bowed her head. "You could still seek another," she whispered.

Damos sat up behind his wife and put his arms around her waist. He leaned close to her and kissed the ridge of her ear. "As could you," he murmured.

"Never," she replied. "There is no other."

"Nor for I," he assured her.

There was a shadow over Damos and Meriope's life now, but they were each other's consolation. Neither sought to dissolve their handfasting and after a time they were happy again. If their happiness was not unbridled, it was at least sufficient to keep them from despair.

*

As Naio had predicted, three years and four months after the fateful meeting in Knossos, Meriope and Damos were married. In the weeks before the Harvest Market the farm was in even more of a turmoil than usual as the two families strove to organise everything just so. The happy couple might see this as nothing more than a formal acknowledgement of their union, but for their families this was the great and final celebration and everything had to be perfect.

Meriope spent many days and nights with her mother, while Dido wove and measured and stitched to complete her wedding gown in time. The gown was deep green with many folds and drapes of cloth; few Jaffa of Knossos would ever see such a garment, let alone wear one.

Many guests were invited, including of course the bride's closest childhood friends. This time, Rathe and Nissa arrived from Akrotiri in good time, accompanied by Naio and by _three_ children, their ranks swollen by the addition of baby Priam. The sight of Nissa, herding her brood together, brought a pang of envy to Meriope's heart, but she was able to find the grace to be happy for her friends rather than sorry for herself.

In accordance with Halicarnasan custom, Damos' mother and sister were responsible for organising the great celebration of the marriage and they excelled themselves. It was a huge affair, but all went smoothly, in spite of one unexpected twist. When they stood together at the altar it was not the kindly old priest of Agora who heard their vows, but Naio.

"Do not be afraid," she whispered. "I am a priestess as well as a warrior. It is my right to conduct such proceedings."

 

The next morning, Meriope rose as a married woman and found Naio waiting for her in the kitchen with a pot of klah'c.

"Drink," she said. "We shall wait for your husband to join us."

They sat and drank in silence, for Jaffa had no need of idle banter. After only a short time, Damos rose and came into the kitchen.

"Mistress Naio," he said, surprised. "What brings you here? Are you cook as well as warrior-priestess?"

Naio smiled. "I have come here with an offer," she explained. "If you still wish it, Meriope, I will take you as my chal'ti. I shall not ask for your answer now; if you wish to accept then you should present yourself at the hall of Captain Medusa in Akrotiri at the end of your bridal month. Whatever your choice, I am to extend the hospitality of Akrotiri to you in this joyous time. The Captain insists that you should spend your bridal month in her city as her honoured guests."

"That is most generous," Meriope replied. "We would be honoured, would we not, husband?"

"Thrilled," Damos agreed, with poor grace. "Who are we to resist the will of a goddess?"

Naio's eyes flashed, dangerously. "The decision is Meriope's," she insisted. "I shall not attempt to influence her; I trust that you will do the same."

"I have no power over my wife," Damos assured her. "She is and has always been her own woman."

"Yet you do influence her." Naio rose to leave and laid a small token, like a coin of gold and lapis lazuli, on the table. "Bring this to the sign of the Silver Aegis in Akrotiri and you shall be well cared for. Many blessings on your union; I hope yet that the greatest of blessings may be yours."

"Even though a mother could not be a warrior?" Damos asked, to Meriope's mortified embarrassment.

Naio smiled, blithely. "I think that you underestimate some of my warriors, Damos of Halicarnasus," she assured him, "and a great many mothers besides."

*

The bridal month was the final phase of the traditional marriage process of the Jaffa on Halicarnasus. A newly-wed couple would leave their home and their work for a greater month; fifty-three days, a single cycle of the larger moon, Tamis. Unless wealthy enough to keep a second home or rent rooms at a boarding house, the couple would stay with relatives, who would attend their needs while they enjoyed their new union. Of course, by the end of their handfasting a couple unusually blessed could have enjoyed their union to the tune of four children by the beginning their bridal month, but the custom endured, perhaps because it provided the Jaffa with the only time of extended rest in their long lives. Even the Taurus Guard were granted leave for a lesser month – the twenty-one day cycle of the smaller moon, Selene – in celebration of their nuptials.

Not long after Naio had left the farm, Rathe and Nissa came and with their help the happy couple packed a few necessary belongings onto a cart and set off for Akrotiri. Their choice of destination was not governed solely by divine will. With little difficulty, Meriope had already persuaded Rathe and Nissa to give them lodgings in the coastal city; Naio's proclamation merely meant that they were able to release their friends from the burden of tending to their daily needs.

Meriope had been awed by Knossos, but she saw now that the God-king's capital was not even truly a city. Rather, it was a town in scale, but lent an air of grandeur by being clustered about the slopes of the truncated pyramid of the Labyrinth. Akrotiri was something else entirely. Rathe informed her that it was the oldest city on the planet and its buildings had a grandness which, if not equal to the Labyrinth in scale, was joined with a grace and beauty which the God-King's palace could not match.

Rathe drew the cart to a halt on the outskirts of the city, at the gates of a small, pretty house with a well-tended garden. He stepped down from his seat and began lifting his children from the back. "I will leave Nissa here with the little ones, then take you on to the Silver Aegis," he offered.

"You live here?" Meriope gasped, amazed.

"Rathe is most favoured by Captain Medusa," Nissa announced, proudly.

Rathe gave a self-deprecating laugh. "What wealth and favour we enjoy comes from Nissa's work in the gardens of the hall," he assured them. "For a shepherdess she has quite a way with flowers." He reached up and lifted her down by the waist. She draped her arms around his neck and when her feet were on the ground she kissed him. "She has a talent for making things grow," Rathe added, suggestively, returning the kiss.

Nissa laughed. "Not with the children watching," she scolded, gently. "Nor our three," she added, winking at Meriope. "Get on with you, my darling." Her voice dropped to a sultry purr. "But hurry back."

"Like lightning," Rathe promised. He turned and sprang up to the seat, urging the horse forward again.

"Will we be so when we are ten years married?" Meriope wondered aloud.

"When we are _fifty_ years married," Damos promised her. "They will write songs about our love."

After a short drive, the cart stopped before a lodging house as large as the farm buildings back at Agora. The walls gleamed white and on the burnished red wood of the door hung a silver disc with eight rays radiating from its centre. "We can not afford this," Meriope breathed.

"Do you have the token, my lovebirds?" Rathe called back.

"I do," Meriope replied, drawing it out to reassure herself. It was a thing of great beauty; a circle, split by an eight-pointed star, cast in gold and set with lapis. The value of it if sold would probably have paid for the vast bulk of the couple's possessions.

"Simply show that anywhere in the city and you will pay for nothing; this month is in the Captain's gift. Do not be afraid to use it, either; so long as you are not frivolous she will begrudge you nothing. Enjoy yourselves, my friends; this is your bridal month."

*

The guest house was all that its magnificent façade promised and the token – the sign of Medusa, the Lady of Akrotiri and the Captain served by Rathe and Naio – not only absolved them of any cost but also assured them the very finest treatment. Meriope was taken aback by the size and luxury of their rooms, by the richness of the refreshments served to them and the deference of the staff.

The proprietor of the house paid close, personal attention to their comforts. His name was Philemon, and he explained that he had once served in Medusa's company; the Gorgons. When Meriope showed an interest in his stories, the old man retrieved his armour – unused in years but still kept clean and polished – and showed them the snarling demon-helm that had marked him as one of the élite.

"I still wear my hair as I did then, although there is less of it." Pilomon ran a hand through his thick, grey dreadlocks. His brow was bald, but the plaits fell heavily from the back of his head.

"My wife has been offered a place in Medusa's service," Damos grumbled.

"Damos, don't," Meriope whispered. "Don't let this spoil our bridal month, please."

"How can it not? In a month you might leave me forever."

Philemon discretely withdrew as Meriope laid her arms about her husband's neck. "I will _never_ leave you," she swore. "If I were to become the First Prime of the Great Poseidon himself, I would still come home to you. I _have_ no home but where your dwell, Damos."

Damos sighed and hung his head in shame. "I know," he replied, "but I do not want to be without you. When you were gone from my side on the road to Knossos I had no home; I do not want to feel like that again."

"Then I shall not go," Meriope promised. "I will decline this offer and I shall come back to Halicarnasus with you."

Damos held her tightly, and she squeezed her eyes shut to hide her tears.

 

That night, Milos pulled himself in close behind his wife, wrapped his arm around her waist and murmured in her ear: "I know what she meant now. I _do_ influence you and I know that you would not be happy in Halicarnasus."

"Damos?"

"I want you to be happy, Meriope. I know, although I have been loath to admit it, that this means you must accept Naio's offer."

"I do not have to. I have been happy with you on your farm. It may be..."

"No," he said firmly. "I love you more than ever for trying, but that is why I can not hold you back from this."

"I love you," she whispered. "If I lost you..."

"You never will. I shall always be there, waiting for you when you come home."

"And I shall always come home," she promised.

*

With the burden of the decision lifted, the bridal month was sweet, the impending farewell only adding to the couple's joy in each other's company. By day, Philemon's youngest son showed them the sights of the city of Akrotiri; and by night they lay together in love. They visited Rathe and Nissa's house on several occasions to dine with their family, but they felt no envy of their children anymore.

Both Rathe and Nissa now wore the circle-brand of Medusa in place of the horned tattoo of Minos upon their brows. Rathe had been admitted to the august ranks of the élite Gorgons and Nissa served as a gardener in the grounds of the hall. Both spoke very highly of the Captain. They were delighted that Meriope had accepted Naio's offer, but Nissa in particular was disappointed that they had chosen not to move from Halicarnasus to Akrotiri.

"You will not be a levy," she reminded Meriope. "You will not be released after training to work your fields until your arm is needed."

Damos gave a lopsided smile. "She was never much of a field-worker anyway," he said, phlegmatically, "although the herd will miss her."

"We understand what is involved," Meriope assured her friend, "but this is what we want. Halicarnasus is our home; it is my home. Damos could not leave his farm and I will always long to be there."

"I suppose I understand," Nissa sighed, "but my home is with my family."

Meriope turned to her husband and smiled. "As is mine," she said.

*

At the end of the month, Meriope packed a small bag and went up to the Hall of Medusa with Rathe. Damos accompanied them to say his farewells.

Naio received them in the great foyer of the hall. "You have decided then?" she asked.

"We have," Meriope replied. "That is, I have and my husband supports me. I have chosen to accept your offer."

"I am glad," Naio said. "Master Damos, I know that there is no-one in the world who could replace your wife, but I hope that you will at least allow me to compensate for the loss of her labour." She gestured and two Jaffa approached from the back of the foyer. "This is Criton," she said. "He is young and strong, but he lacks both patience and dedication."

"I am sure he will be ample replacement for my wife's efforts then," Damos drawled, earning a slap to his shoulder.

Naio smiled. "I hope that he will benefit as much as you from the arrangement. The young lady beside him is his pledged bride, Denaria. If you can find a place for her, I am certain that a little hard work will do her a world of good."

The girl, a pretty thing who looked too young even to be pledged, bowed her head and blushed, but from the side of her eyes she shot Naio such a poisonous look that Meriope knew at once that there was something more going on than Naio was revealing. Moreover, Criton and Denaria did not look to Meriope as though they were friends, let alone lovers. She wondered for an uncharitable moment if this was some conspiracy to have Denaria seduce Damos and so remove the encumbrance of marriage from Naio's new chal'ti. That did not seem Naio's style, however, and Meriope set the thought aside.

Damos gave Meriope a look that showed he shared at least some of her suspicions, but all he said was: "I am certain that they will prove most useful. You and your Captain are most thoughtful."

"It is the least we can do when you are parting with such a treasure," Naio assured him, acknowledging the compliment with a nod. "Take your leave now," she added. "Criton and Denaria will meet you at your cart. Meriope; Rathe and I will await you in the next chamber.

 

The farewells were long and tearful. Meriope did not yet know how long it would be before she next saw her husband and Damos could not be certain that he would ever see his wife again. Both had tears in their eyes, but for each other they were strong.

At last, Milos left the hall, and Meriope walked through the door that led to her destiny.

But Niao was not there.


	2. Akrotiri

_Akrotiri, on the planet Kritos_

The woman who waited in the training room certainly _looked_ like Niao, at first glance. She had the same dark eyes; she had the same blue-black hair and wore it in the same gamine cut. But this woman was clad in a tunic and trousers of white silk, with a band of gold around her brow and no tattoo to mar her flawless olive skin. Her expression was cool and imperious. Her gaze seemed to penetrate to the very core of Meriope's being, yet under that fierce eye the Jaffa felt safe.

Without hesitation, Meriope bent her knee before this figure. "Medusa, My Goddess," she murmured, suddenly embarrassed to think of all the times when she has addressed ‘Naio' as an equal.

"Rise," Medusa ordered. Her voice thundered softly, but it was nonetheless the voice of Niao – dry, amused and just a little impatient. "In future you should know that I do not like to be addressed in that way. When you speak of me or to me, you will say ‘My Captain'; is that understood?"

"Yes, My Captain."

"And I told you to rise, Jaffa!"

Meriope sprung upright. "Yes, My Captain."

"Better. Now, Rathe."

Rathe emerged from the shadows in the corner, carrying a pair of training staffs. He threw one of them to Meriope and she caught it easily.

"Rathe has given you some training, I know. Have you practiced since he left Halicarnasus?"

"Every day."

"Good. Show me."

Meriope moved into a guard posture and Rathe matched her. She attacked warily, knowing that Rathe would have improved considerably since they had last sparred. In fact, she hardly recognised this opponent as her former teacher. When she had studied with him, Rathe had been skilled, but formal and awkward; as unfamiliar with his weapon as Meriope had been and almost as inexperienced in true combat. Now he was fluid, intuitive and inventive; Meriope was nowhere near to his skill and in just a few passes he had landed a touch on her shoulder.

"Good," Medusa said again.

"Is that it?" Meriope asked, before she could stop herself.

Medusa only laughed, kindly.

"My Captain teaches that humiliation is a poor teacher," Rathe explained. "She knows that you have been ill-trained" – he grinned, wryly – "and that you are inexperienced; she does not require me to prove it by thrashing you."

"It is also a useful test of control to ask a warrior to pull his blows at times," Medusa added, "although it is not a habit that should be encouraged. In training armour, practice is always full-contact. Tell me your thoughts on that match, Meriope."

"Rathe has grown skilful," she replied. She paused a moment, then added: "And I have grown slow."

"Excellent!" Medusa smiled, approvingly. "You know the quality of your foe and your own weaknesses. But you are not slow; you are stagnant. Your moves are too formal; you have not fought a live opponent in so long that you have lost the rhythm of action and reaction. Your speed and confidence shall return with practice."

"Yes, My Captain," Meriope agreed.

"That was not an order, Meriope," Medusa said, patiently. "Rathe will see to your equipping and then take you to the women's barracks. Rest well tonight, for tomorrow your instruction begins."

Meriope bowed low. "Thank you, My Captain."

*

Rathe led Meriope through the fortress to the armoury. "Of course, each of the wardrooms and the section barracks has an armoury in addition to a bunk room. In our Captain's hall we are never far from our arms."

"I see," Meriope said, since something seemed to be expected.

"This, however, is the main armoury where the weapons and armour of all the apprentices and of the second company of regulars is kept."

"How many warriors are there in the Hall?" Meriope asked.

"Four fifths of My Captain's battalion," Rathe replied. "The first, third and fourth companies of regulars, the élite company of Gorgons and the company of apprentices; the second company of regulars is in permanent service aboard the Captain's ha'tak vessel. For now, you will be concerned only with the training company, but that is structured much as a regular company, with four sections; you will be assigned to the women's section."

"Do the full companies have women's sections?"

Rathe shook his head. "Once you are a regular, you will bunk with the other warriors of your section; men and women."

"Oh my," Meriope said, shocked.

Rathe looked at her fondly. "Always so proper. Never change, Meriope."

Meriope laughed. "Do not be foolish, Rathe."

"Come," Rathe said. He pushed open a heavy iron door and ushered Meriope through. "You will find the Master-at-Arms a little brusque, but he is a good man to have as a friend."

"Rathe," Meriope said. "I do not think much of your armoury. It is a little on the small side, and there are no weapons."

With a patient smile, Rathe closed the door behind them. They stood side by side in a bare chamber, less than ten feet square. Rathe faced the wall in front of them and said in a firm voice: "Da ipsta a kratoros."

After a moment's pause the voice of a young woman filled the chamber. "Kree, Jaffa. Identify yourselves and state your business."

"Rathe of Halicarnasus. Squad Leader of the Assault Section; Company of Gorgons."

"Meriope of Halicarnasus," Meriope added.

"Chal'ti of the Women's Section; Company of Apprentices," Rathe expanded. "Greetings, Thyia."

"Greetings, Squad Leader."

With a soft hiss, a long, straight crack opened in the wall and a hidden door swung wide.

"Security is paramount in the Hall," Rathe explained. "Our weapons _are_ always at hand, but not just anyone can access them." He led the way through the door and into an armoury twice the size of Damos' cattle barn. Rack upon rack of armaments stretched away into the distance. Staff weapons, zat'nik'tels, tacs and blades of many shapes and sizes; armour in several styles; and shelves stacked with clothing.

"Fates," Meriope whispered.

"This chamber houses the wargear for over four hundred warriors and three hundred apprentices," Rathe explained, "as well as the workshops of the Tek ma'shen. That does require a little space, you know."

By the door was a desk, where sat a grey-bearded man who looked to be one of the oldest Jaffa that Meriope had ever met. He wore a plain grey robe and rested his feet on the desk; his left leg was a sophisticated mechanism of steel and trinium, but the other was clad in a leather boot and presumably unremarkable save for the strength which showed in the man's physique. Although nonchalant in stance, he had the bearing of a warrior and looked alert and battle-ready despite his prosthetic limb and advanced years.

A young and pretty woman – presumably Thyia – stood behind him and grinned impishly at Rathe.

Rathe studiously ignored the girl and bowed respectfully to the old man. "Tek ma'shen," he greeted the Master-at-Arms. Meriope hurriedly mimicked Rathe as the armourer rose to his feet.

"She is a little old for a Chal'ti, is she not?" Meriope's face flamed, but the old man continued before she could answer. "Nice figure; good legs. Not too much in the chest, though. Shame; but it makes my life easier. There is nothing more difficult than fitting armour for a buxom girl," he confided to Meriope.

Meriope was determined not to be flustered by this old vulture. "Is it harder to make the armour to fit?" she demanded, "or does the measuring just remind you too much of what you can not have?"

The Tek ma'shen stared at her for a long moment. Meriope felt Rathe stiffen at her side and Thyia's face contorted with alarm. Meriope wondered if she had gone too far, but then the old man started to laugh.

"Come along," he said. "No time to waste; let's get you fitted. Where is my tape? Thyia!"

The girl jumped. "Yes, Tek ma'shen," she gasped.

"Tape!"

As Thyia hurried off to fetch the measuring tape, Rathe whispered in Meriope's ear: "Good going. Some people he _never_ warms to this much."

"What is his name?" Meriope asked.

"Nobody knows," Rathe replied. "Even Medusa just calls him Tek ma'shen; or Teken for short."

Thyia returned with the tape and the armourer ordered Meriope to raise her arms. He moved around her, measuring her waist, chest, head and limbs in meticulous detail, reaching around her again and again to pull the loops of tape close. He called out each measurement and Thyia made a series of marks on a tablet. "Good, good," he muttered himself when he was done. "Standard adjusted. Excellent. Yes," he told Meriope. "I will have your training armour ready by tomorrow morning; your field armour will take at least a week, but you will not need it before then: I'm glad to say that you will not require fully customised suits. If either set needs any but the most trivial of repairs or adjustments, please bring them to me instead of trying to fix the problem yourself."

"Yes, Tek ma'shen," Meriope replied. "Thank you."

"Thank _you_ ," he replied with a roguish wink. "It has been a pleasure."

Meriope blushed.

"Once you achieve the status of chal'ak I will make you a suit of dress armour and of course the training here is hard; you will barely recognise your own body in a year and so you will have to be measured again.."

"I look forward to it," Meriope said.

The Tek ma'shen laughed again and took her hands. He turned them over and over again, inspecting the callused palms and long fingers. "Strong hands," he noted. "That is good. Not a warrior's hands, though; farmer's?"

"Shepherd's," she corrected. "Well; and a _little_ bit of farming."

"Alright. I can give you a salve that will speed the forming of new calluses; that will spare you a few blisters."

"Thank you."

He waved away her thanks and turned to look over his shoulder. "Thyia!"

The girl hurried out of the aisles, her arms laden with ma'shan.

"Why are you never where you are supposed to be?" the Tek ma'shen demanded, turning away without waiting for an answer. "Here." Without looking, he snatched a training staff from Thyia and tossed it to Meriope. He passed several staffs, one after another, and had her perform the eight basic blocks and attacks with each. When at last he was satisfied he selected one of the staffs – the one which Meriope had felt most comfortable with – and marked it with a series of scratches.

"What is that?" Meriope asked.

Teken looked up at Rathe. "Does the Captain know?"

Rathe nodded. "A tutor has been arranged to teach Meriope her letters."

"Very good." The old man nodded and turned back to Meriope. "This is your name," he explained. "This will be your training staff throughout your apprenticeship. When you need it no longer I will sand off the marks, but this weapon will be yours once it is formally presented to you tomorrow." He placed the ma'shan on his desk, turned to face Thyia and barked: "Third rack, fifth file, locker two! Then bring me a number eighteen and a size three set."

The harried young woman returned to the armoury shelves. Meriope was beginning to feel like a spectator in her own life.

"That is now your locker," Teken explained. "You will find it marked with your name. The locker is to be used for the storage of your weapons and armour only; personal possessions are to be stored in the foot locker attached to your bunk in the section barracks." He turned away and disappeared into the racks.

"Were has he gone?" Meriope asked.

"To fetch your weapons," Rathe replied. "Here he comes."

Teken returned with a staff weapon and laid it next to the ma'shan. The staff weapons of Olympian warriors were slender, sophisticated devices. The shaft was almost six feet long, with the firing studs housed in a bulge halfway down. The plasma discharge emitters were housed in a narrow, almost pointed casing at one end and at the other end was a heavy, weighted mace head, at its widest only three times the thickness of the staff. A blue crystal cover at the base of the mace head housed the weapon's liquid naquadah power core. The armourer had already marked this weapon with Meriope's name.

"This is your staff weapon," Teken explained. "Treat it with respect and it will serve you well. It will be your primary weapon in every battle you fight; if its function is impaired it will be your life – and perhaps the lives of your squad mates – that will be imperilled. You will be taught the basic rituals of maintenance; anything more serious..." he paused, expectantly.

"I am to return the weapon to you for repair."

"Very good. Now, where is...Thyia! Damn your eyes, girl..."

Thyia hurried up, staggering beneath the weight of an armful of weapons.

"Well, thank you Thyia," Teken said, impatiently, as the girl laid her burden on the desk. "And?"

"Tek ma'shen?" she sighed.

"Robes! Quickly now."

Shaking his head, the armourer picked up a belt which he buckled around Meriope's waist with a little too much enjoyment. He handed Meriope a scabbarded knife.

"You will wear this from now," the old man said. "Your other weapons will be given to you in the morning. The ma'shan and staff weapon will be stored in your locker, as will the zat'nik'tel." He indicated the sidearm, which was familiar to Meriope although she had never used one. "In addition, your locker will hold your bow, crossbow, spear, javelin, discus, axe, labrys and sword."

Meriope stared at this vast array of weapons and especially at the last of them, a short, heavy, sickle-shaped blade, quite different from the long, straight swords which the militia sometimes trained with.

"Most of these you will use only for training purposes, but the sword is also worn with dress armour at all ceremonial occasions. All of the weapons will suit your grip. All but the knife will be stored in the armoury when not in use. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly."

"The knife you will carry with you at all times; it is the mark of the warrior."

"Yes, Tek ma'shen."

The old man laughed. "Call me Teken," he insisted.

Thyia returned and set down a set of grey clothes.

"Chal'ti robes," Teken said. "You will wear them at all times unless your training requires you to be in armour. Your personal clothes are to be kept in storage and worn only when you leave Akrotiri to return home; within the city you should always be recognised as an apprentice in the Captain's service. You will learn that this has many benefits, but in return you will be expected to meet the Captain's standards at all times."

"I understand."

"Good. Now; do you have a comb? Towel? Denti-stick?"

"Yes."

"A night robe?"

"No," Meriope admitted.

Teken shared a look with Rathe which made Meriope's skin flame red. "I like this one a lot," the old man said.

"She came to Akrotiri for her _bridal_ month," Rathe explained, stressing the fact that Meriope was married.

"Pity. Thyia!"

"I am standing right here," Thyia replied, wincing at the yell.

"Night robe."

"Yes, Tek ma'shen," the girl sighed.

"It won't be much," Teken apologised, "but it will do for now; unless you would prefer to sleep naked of course."

"Whatever is supplied to me will be quite sufficient," Meriope assured him, primly, although when Thyia returned, the robe she handed over was not much to look at.

"Alright, Gorgon," Teken said. "You can take her to her dormitory now."

"Thank you, Teken," Meriope said, bowing.

"Thank you, chal'ti."

*

"Who was that girl?" Meriope asked. "Teken's assistant? Why is he so short with her?"

Rathe laughed. "He's like that with everyone; well, almost everyone. Thyia is his granddaughter. The chances are that no-one not related to him could put up with him for that long."

"I see."

"She is a nice girl," Rathe noted, "but I do not think that her heart is in armoury. Here is the barracks," he added. He stopped and turned to face Meriope; when he spoke again it was in a warning tone. "Now listen: All women in the Captain's forces fall under the overall command of Ilena, Primus of the Assault Section of the Gorgons, Demarch of the Battalion and thus third in command under Captain Medusa and Primarch Anthus."

"A woman of some importance," Meriope said.

"Yes, so you must treat her with great respect, even if she does not return the favour. She will make life tough for you because you are pretty, but if you can show her that you are tough as well then you _will_ earn her respect."

"Of course," Meriope promised.

Rathe nodded and knocked at the door. After a short pause the door was opened by a large, powerful woman of tremendous presence but no great beauty. Her long, copper-coloured hair was bound into tight dreadlocks. She looked briefly at Rathe, then regarded Meriope with a fierce, penetrating glower. "And what is this you bring me, Gorgon?" she asked Rathe.

"This is Meriope of Halicarnasus, Primus Ilena," Rathe replied. "She is to begin training under the Captain in the morning; the Captain asks that you find her a place here and assign her a ba'kir."

Ilena gave a terse nod. "You are dismissed, Gorgon."

"Yes, Primus," Rathe replied, with a short nod of acknowledgment. "Ral tora ke," he added, slapping Meriope on the arm.

"Thank you," she replied, before bowing to Ilena. "Primus."

"In," Ilena grunted.

The woman's hostility was almost palpable but Meriope obeyed without question and went into the barracks.

The room was filled with bunks and about a third of those bunks were occupied at present. Ilena led Meriope towards the far side of the room. About halfway, two women sat close together on a single bunk, their heads leaning together.

"Kree Jaffa!" Ilena snapped. The two women snapped apart. "Jocasta; find Arachne and send her to me."

One of the two women stood. "Yes, Primus," she murmured.

"One of the principle rules of the barracks," Ilena explained. "If you decide to take a lover, take her elsewhere. This is a place of rest _only_. Men are forbidden to pass the door of the women's barracks anyway, but there will be no ke'nep of any kind in these dormitories. Is that understood."

"Yes, Primus," Meriope said, "although I am married."

"And?"

"And so I will not be taking a lover," Meriope explained, blushing.

Ilena raised a sceptical eyebrow. "If you say so, Jaffa. That is the door to my quarters," she said, pointing to a door behind her shoulder. "I normally bunk in here; if I am in my chambers then I am working and I am not to be disturbed save in dire emergency or at a summons from the Captain. _Whatever_ happens, you are not to enter those chambers without permission."

"Yes, Primus."

" _You_ will sleep here," Ilena went on, pointing to a bunk in a cramped corner. The wall behind the bunk vibrated with the rumble of some great machine on the far side.

"Thank you, Primus," Meriope said, humbly, although she felt that Ilena was being too optimistic in assuming that she would sleep.

"Change into your chal'ti's robes," Ilena said. "I will find out where your guide has got to and you should just have time to join the other apprentices for the evening meal. You have not begun training yet?"

"That is correct, Primus," she agreed.

Ilena gave another terse nod. "The horn of the hall will sound at dawn. You are to attend on the Captain in her private training hall immediately after breakfast. I believe that you should join the other chal'ti for evening exercises," she added. "Arachne will show you to the gymnasium an hour after the meal. I am told that you must rest tonight, but it is not healthy to sleep on a full stomach." She glowered at Meriope, challenging her to argue.

"Yes, Primus."

Ilena glowered at Meriope, then left her to store her spare clothes and her effects. The dormitory seemed an unwelcoming place, especially when she had to strip off her personal clothes and change into the grey training robes. The robes consisted of a knee-length, woollen tunic, slit to the hip on either side, matching trousers and a pair of sandals. The robes were comfortable but they were not hers and she felt very vulnerable, surrounded by strangers and wearing unfamiliar clothes. She was moving towards her long-cherished goal, but she hardly felt that she was living the dream.

"Meriope of Halicarnasus?"

Meriope turned to face the woman who had addressed her. "Yes," she agreed.

"I am Arachne of Knossos," the young woman replied. She had a pretty, round face; her black hair was cropped short into a similar style to Medusa's and she wore a grey apprentice's robe. Her dark eyes were friendly and she had a pleasant smile. "I have been assigned as your ba'kir," she explained. "I am to show you around and teach you the rules of the Hall."

"Thank you, Arachne," Meriope said. She was somewhat taken aback by the youth of the woman assigned as her guide. "Are you also chal'ti?"

Arachne gave an infectious grin which seemed to light up the room and make the dormitory a more welcoming place. "No, Jaffa; I am chal'ak."

"You are a _senior_ apprentice?"

"Do not worry yourself. You were chosen by the Captain herself, I hear. I doubt it will be long before you catch up with me." Arachne punched Meriope companionably on the shoulder. "Now come, my friend; our dinner awaits."

*

The blast of a horn dragged Meriope from a fitful sleep. The air was suffused by the grey light of dawn; Meriope's head ached and her muscles were stiff from the drubbing she had received the night before. As soon as she had entered the gymnasium, a handsome, hard-eyed woman had challenged her to spar. Arachne had introduced this woman as Semele, Ilena's chal'ak – thus senior to Meriope although she also was some years younger – and advised them both in a warning tone that Meriope needed to warm up before sparring.

In fact, Arachne had tried everything short of holding the two women apart to prevent the bout taking place and Meriope soon saw why. Semele was highly skilled and unexpectedly brutal; she attacked hard and never gave Meriope a moment's grace to even catch her breath. Meriope was sure that Semele had cracked at least one of her ribs and she was far from sure that the younger woman would have stopped short of killing her had Arachne not intervened. The chal'ak squared off and for a moment, Meriope was certain that nothing would prevent Semele and Arachne battling to the death, but Ilena called them both to order. Despite her injuries, Meriope had pulled herself to her feet alongside the two chal'ak.

"Who started this?" Ilena demanded.

"I did," Meriope replied at once. "I should not have accepted Semele's challenge," she explained, when Ilena stared at her in amazement. "I do not have the skill to face such an opponent; my pride got the better of me."

"Is this true?" Ilena asked the other two.

"I...Yes, Tal ma'te," Semele agreed.

"I might not have used those exact words," Arachne demurred.

"Semele; give me your ma'shan." Ilena took the chal'ak's staff. "I have had cause to speak to you before regarding your lack of restraint. I am afraid that this time we will not be able to let this go at mere words."

"No, Tal'ma'te."

"Chal'ti; I trust that you will be involved in no other incidents of this kind?"

"No, Primus," Meriope assured her.

Ilena nodded. "Then you may return to the dormitory. Arachne, see to her injuries; take her to the keir'os if need be, the Captain is expecting her in the morning. Semele; with me."

"That was a bold move," Arachne whispered as she half-carried Meriope from the gymnasium.

"What will happen to Semele?"

"Most likely she will have some of her chal'ak's privileges suspended for a time," Arachne replied. "If Ilena is very angry, she may also be withdrawn from the games in Knossos this year. Semele is a gifted athlete and very proud."

"Why did she try to kill me?" Meriope asked.

"She did not try to kill you," Arachne laughed. "Her aim was to injure and humiliate you; she could have killed you at any time and I doubt I would have been quick enough to stop her."

"But why?"

"Maybe she sees you as a threat? She has been the chal prime of the women's section for a long time, but if Medusa has selected you herself...Your arrival has made a great many people nervous."

"Well, hopefully they will have seen by now that I am no threat to any of them," Meriope said, dolefully.

"The Captain chose you, Meriope," Arachne reminded her. "We all expect great things of you."

Meriope laughed; her ribs jabbed painfully into the side of her lung. "Oh good," she groaned. "So long as there is no pressure."

 

Meriope groaned again as she sat up – the keir'os, Anteros, had reset her rib but the hard bunk had not been kind to her bruises – and at once Arachne sprang nimbly down from the upper bunk.

"Good morning, Jaffa," the younger woman called, brightly.

"Good morning," Meriope replied, sourly. "How do you manage to rest in this place? I never thought I would have such need of sleep, but I could barely achieve kelno'reem with all that noise."

"You will become accustomed to the noise," Arachne promised. "I actually find it soothing. Come on; if we hurry we can shower before the rush."

Meriope groaned. "But I showered yesterday!" she complained.

"The Captain likes her warriors fresh," Arachne replied. "There is nothing like a cold shower to sharpen the senses."

Grumbling, Meriope laboured out of bed, grabbed her clean robe and followed Arachne to the shower room. She was immediately struck by the condition of the other women in the room; she had always considered herself fit, but Medusa's warriors were sleek and toned to a degree which put her to shame. Feeling self-conscious of her soft, flabby muscles, she did her best to hide in a corner and washed as quickly as possible, to Arachne's great amusement.

Nevertheless, Meriope could not deny that she felt better for the shower. Once she was done she dried herself and dressed, then ran a hand ruefully through her hair. Yesterday morning she had combed out a head full of long, dark curls that fell halfway down her back. Last night, Arachne had taken a pair of shears to those curls, which now lay wrapped in a cloth in Meriope's locker. Her hair was cropped into the gamine bob that both Arachne and Medusa herself sported.

"My ears are cold," she complained.

"You will get used to it," Arachne promised once more. "All apprentices wear their hair short. Enjoy what little you have; when we become regulars we must shave our heads."

"Go'mik," Meriope said.

"Yes. I personally plan to join the élite as soon as possible; then I will be allowed to grow my hair long and bind it into the dreadlocks of the Gorgon. I believe that it may be a form of incentive."

Meriope thought of Rathe when he had first returned to Halicarnasus as a Gorgon. The villagers of Agora had laughed at his dreadlocks; she had laughed at first, but then they had been rather short then. Soon enough she had come to see what a vast source of pride the dreadlocks were. "So tell me, Arachne. Why does Medusa...?"

"...wear her hair in a chal'ak's style? You would have to ask her that; I have never dared."

*

After breaking their fast in the apprentices' refectory, Arachne showed Meriope to the Captain's gymnasium.

"It would be quicker to cut straight through the other training halls," Arachne noted, "but this way is...quieter."

"Thank you," Meriope said, not wishing to revisit the scene of her recent humiliation.

"This is the door," Arachne said. "Good luck, my friend."

"Again, thank you, Arachne."

The young woman smiled and opened the door. She ushered Meriope through and closed the door behind her.

Medusa's gymnasium had an open floor at least a hundred paces across and lay open to the sky. A hundred warriors could have trained there, but at present the only people in the chamber were Meriope, Medusa, the Tek ma'shen and Thyia. The Goa'uld stood in the centre of the arena with a staff weapon in her hand; the armourer and his granddaughter stood close to the door with a pile of gear stacked neatly beside them.

"Greetings, Jaffa," Teken said. Medusa stood silently in the centre of the arena.

"Greetings, Tek ma'shen."

Teken and Thyia lifted a suit of padded training armour and approached Meriope. With their expert help, Meriope donned the armour and buckled it tight. At each stage, Teken made certain that she understood how the pieces of armour fit together.

"How does that feel, Jaffa?" Teken asked.

Meriope flashed a nervous glance at Medusa, but the Captian displayed no sign of impatience. "It feels good," she replied. "I am unused to the weight, but the fit is perfect."

Teken nodded, apparently satisfied. He gave a gesture to indicate that Meriope should now approach Medusa; Meriope did so.

"Kneel," Medusa ordered.

Meriope obeyed.

"I must be certain that you understand what you are undertaking," Medusa said. "By entering my service, you bind us together, Meriope. You shall owe me a duty of obedience; I shall owe you an obligation of use. As you are loyal to me, I shall be loyal to you.

"I shall expect much of you, Jaffa; I take no-one into my service unless I think them capable of great things. If you disappoint me, I shall have no place for you in my service, in my hall or in my city, but if you are true then I swear that you shall have no better friend."

The Goa'uld's eyes flashed like fire. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, My Captain."

"Raise your eyes," Medusa ordered. "I am not too fine for you to gaze upon. Good," she said, when Meriope had met her gaze. "Now I ask you these things only once: Do you understand what it is that you are undertaking?"

"Yes, My Captain."

"Do you enter freely into my service, accepting all of the responsibilities, regulations, duties and obligations which go with that service?"

"Yes, My Captain."

"Will you obey me in all things?"

"Yes, My Captain."

"Will you obey my officers as though they spoke with my voice?"

"Yes, My Captain."

"Do you swear this on your life and on your honour?"

"On my life and on my honour, My Captain."

"Then I swear to you, Meriope of Halicarnasus, that I shall never throw away your life, nor order you to spend your blood in a worthless fight. I shall treasure your life as though it were my own and you shall enjoy my protection from any who would harm you." Medusa held out the staff weapon. "Receive your staff, Meriope, and bear it in my service."

Meriope raised her hands and grasped the haft of the weapon. Medusa released her grip, letting the Jaffa take all of the weight of the weapon. She did not need to see the marks upon the haft to recognise the weapon which the Tek ma'shen had selected for her; she knew at once that this was _her_ staff. The weight of it and the balance in her hands was unmistakable.

"Rise, Jaffa."

Meriope stood.

"Your training begins today," Medusa said. "It will be hard."

"I understand, My Captain. May I ask, who is to be my teacher?" _Anyone but Ilena_ , she thought to herself.

Medusa frowned. "I do not care to repeat myself, Jaffa," she cautioned. "I said that I would take you as _my_ chal'ti, did I not?"

"Y-yes, My Captain," Meriope gasped. She could not believe that Medusa intended to train her in person.

"Well then?"

Teken brought Meriope's other weapons over to his Captain. Medusa took the zat'nik'tel holster and buckled it to Meriope's right thigh, then she hung the sword at her left hip.

"Bear these weapons – and any others you may be given – with honour," she told Meriope.

"I shall, My Captain," Meriope promised.

Medusa smiled. "You may call me Tal ma'te when we are alone or in training," she said. "It would please me if you would do so."

"Yes, Tal'ma'te," Meriope replied, breathlessly, still unable to believe that she would learn from one of the gods.

"Thank you, Tek ma'shen," Medusa said. "You and Thyia may go now. Please ask Chal'ak Arachne to join us here."

Teken bowed and his granddaughter bobbed a curtsey. Once they had gone, Medusa walked to a bench at the side of the arena and sat down. She beckoned for Meriope to join her. Tentatively, Medusa went over and knelt at the feet of her goddess.

Medusa sighed. "On the seat, Meriope, and _look at me_. Even cut so short your hair is lovely to look at, but I do doubt its power of conversation." She slapped her student lightly on the crown of her head.

Blushing, Meriope took the seat. "Forgive me, Tal ma'te."

"You have had a pious upbringing, Meriope, but I do not care for genuflection. I am your Captain, not your goddess; you will treat me as you would my Primarch and show deference with a simple bow. Aside from one or two ceremonial occasions and unless you are required to appear before Lord Minos, you will never have cause to kneel again; that is one of the promises I make to my followers. You kneel to none but Minos and – should they have cause to come here – Lord Poseidon, Great Lord Zeus and the Supreme Lord Ra; you answer only to my officers – not to the Taurus Guard, not to the Eagles of Zeus nor the Falcons of Ra – and as a woman in my service you must understand that you belong to no man without consent. I know that you are faithfully wed, but there may be those who do not respect that. However powerful they may be, you are not required to submit to such men and I will defend you if they seek to bring influence against you. If any man seeks to abuse you, come to me at once."

Medusa smiled, gently, and laid a cool hand against Meriope's cheek. "You look so lost," she sighed, affectionately. "You do not understand, do you? Never mind; in time it will become clear to you."

Meriope did not know how to reply. Fortunately, she was saved from her quandary when Medusa turned away to face the door.

"Enter, Arachne," she called.

Arachne bowed at the door and then came over to join them at the bench. She bowed again and, at a signal from Medusa, sat beside Meriope.

"Arachne; Ilena has named you as one of the most gifted apprentice warriors in the women's section. As you have shown such promise and as I can not teach a warrior without a training partner, I will be taking over your training in person."

"Thank you, My Captain," Arachne gasped.

"There is no honour here that you have not earned," Medusa assured her. "You will spar with Meriope in lessons and you will also act as my ba'chal and aid in her instruction. I understand that you have already been assigned to teach her the laws of the hall?"

"That is so," Arachne agreed.

"Very good." Medusa stood. "Rise," she ordered. "Set aside your staff weapons and take up your ma'shan; they are in the rack by the armoury door. Arachne, bring my ma'shan as well."

"Yes, My Captain."

Medusa waited for them to return and she took her staff with a confidence born of ability. "Now, Meriope; we will begin at the beginning so that I can see how far you have progressed already. Arachne; if you will perform the basic attacks, we shall see the quality of Meriope's defence."

_*_

Medusa had not lied; the training was the hardest thing that Meriope had ever undertaken. She was used to rising early, but as soon as she was out of bed she now had to begin a punishing daily regime. After stretching and exercising the kinks and the weariness out of her muscles, she showered – _every_ day, in accordance with the dictates of the hall – then ate her breakfast. Six days out of every seven, she and Arachne would then work on basic close-quarters combat training – unarmed and with a full range of weapons – for one hour, followed by one hour of ranged training, again using a variety of armaments, from staff weapons to thrown knives. The final hour of the morning was spent training in squads and sections with the rest of the company of apprentices; the squads practised skirmish tactics and battle formations and undertook regular forced marches, until the Jaffa could almost run in full armour for upwards of an hour without tiring.

After all of this, they ate a sparse lunch in the refectory and took a short time to perform kelno'reem before the afternoon's exercises began.

The first hour of every afternoon was occupied with Meriope's reading and writing lessons while Arachne again joined the other apprentices for a mixture of squad tactics and technical instruction. Unless she was unavailable, Medusa would take the pair of them for the final two hours, varying her training regime considerably each day to cover weaknesses and develop strengths which she saw emerging. With one hour left before the evening meal the apprentices would be free to relax and bathe. After dinner they were allowed – indeed expected – to pursue their own academic and cultural studies in the library, music rooms or other study areas; Medusa encouraged her warriors to engage in ‘self-cultivation'. For now Meriope took another hour of reading lessons at this time and spent an hour studying rudimentary mathematics before her time was her own. Between three and four hours after dinner, the Jaffa were expected to retire to the dormitories to perform kelno'reem and catch what little dreamless sleep their bodies needed. In all, they were active for twelve of the sixteen hours of the day and night.

The seventh day of every week was the day of rituals. The morning was occupied with religious observance, as it was for Jaffa everywhere on Kritos, but the afternoon was given over entirely to self-cultivation. At this time, Medusa often summoned Meriope, Arachne and a number of other promising apprentices to join a class which in which she instructed her Gorgons in the arts of philosophy, diplomacy and politics. It was clear to Meriope that this was not some special honour for her personal apprentices, but rather something which Medusa had always done.

Also on the day of rituals, Medusa's priests would lead small groups of warriors and apprentices in kelno'reem. Meriope would never have thought that she needed to be led in kelno'reem; she had learned to enter that state of meditation when she was still a prim'ta-less child. Through the application of willpower to the half-dreaming state, however, Meriope learned that she could use kelno'reem as a means to explore her mind and her life. Even more incredibly, the priests taught her to enter a still deeper state of kelno'reem in which images and sensations flowed unbidden through her mind. On her return to full consciousness, the priests would discuss these images with her and offer interpretations which often provided profound – and occasionally disturbing – insights into her own state of mind.

On the last day of every greater month – whichever day of the week that might fall upon – all regular activities were suspended and the entire battalion, save for those on duty, would be mustered out, ordered into sections – experienced warriors fighting alongside apprentices – and engage in a simulated battle. Two senior Gorgons would be chosen to lead the sides in each of these battles and the terms of the engagement would be laid down by Medusa as she saw fit. At times, she would even calve off a third force and instruct them to act as an unknown factor in the engagement. The conflicts gave the warriors experience of the fog of war and more importantly provided a chance for the officers to interact with varying scenarios and make mistakes without costing the battalion any actual lives.

 

As Teken had promised, Meriope's body adapted fast to her new way of life. Body fat she had never known she had wasted away and her muscles grew firm and powerful through the combination of plentiful food and punishing exercise. She knew that she had gained weight but she found that all of her old clothes were now too loose for her. After her first mock-battle, Meriope caught sight of herself in a mirror; blood from a shallow cut clotted in her short hair, her face was leaner than she remembered and her shoulders were broader. She hardly knew herself.

After an awkward first month, Meriope found herself opening up to the other apprentices. Arachne remained her first and her closest friend, but she no longer felt fat and ungainly around them; she no longer felt like an outsider. A few of the older chal'ak obviously resented her to a greater or lesser degree – in particular Semele – and Ilena showed no signs of warming to her. Indeed, the Primus had also taken against Arachne since she had become Meriope's partner and Medusa's chal'ak.

"She is still unhappy about the business with Semele," Arachne explained to Meriope. "I am not sure why, but Semele must have felt threatened by you."

"But how could I have threatened her?" Meriope asked.

The two women were in the bath house. Arachne lay on her stomach in the baths while Meriope massaged the tensions of a long day's training from her back. Around them, many pairs of their fellow apprentices did the same.

"She has been Ilena's lover for many years now," Arachne replied. "Perhaps she thought that you would supplant her there."

Meriope snorted.

"Well, something must have caused her to lose control like that."

"And why would that upset Ilena this much?"

"Because of the fight, she was forced to discipline Semele; I am not the only one who has noted a cooling between them ever since. Ilena probably blames us for the loss of her lover. Of course, there is also the simple fact that she is jealous of you."

"Jealous of me?" Meriope laughed. "She is the third in command of the battalion; what does she have to be jealous of?"

"Ilena was the last person to be chosen as apprentice by the Captain," Arachne went on. "She was unique; now she is not. I believe that she feels threatened by you because you have broken into the special connection which she felt with Medusa."

"She can not have been alone; who was her training partner?"

"I do not know," Arachne admitted. "But whoever it was, they were no more chosen by Medusa than I was; it was Ilena who had caught the Captain's eye."

Meriope leaned close over her friend, leaning her weight onto a particularly knotted muscle. "You talk too much when you relax," she whispered.

"Only to my friends," Arachne assured her.

"Anyway; I think you are wrong."

"Oh?"

"Ilena is not power-hungry; she craves order. She sees us as a disruption," Meriope explained. "We are under her authority, but we also answer directly to the Captain. That challenges her authority and threatens good order. She can not contradict the Captain's commands so she is frustrated. Semele's actions – whatever the cause – will have confirmed Ilena's concerns and so she bears us ill-will."

"So what should we do?"

"Show Ilena the respect she deserves and hope that she comes to see that we are no threat to either her authority or to the order of the hall."

 

*

 

After her first year of training, Meriope was coming to realise just how much work was involved in becoming a warrior. She had trained hard and developed her skills until she could match many of the other chal'ti, but although she had grown to be stronger than Arachne she was far short of the younger woman's skill, or that of her arch-rival, Semele. Meriope still had no idea what she had done to arouse Semele's wrath, but the young apprentice clearly loathed her with a seething intensity. No attempt to resolve this tension had been successful and so Meriope had decided simply to avoid Semele as much as possible, ignore her as far as was reasonable, and to tolerate her when she could manage neither of the other options.

Whatever deficiencies Meriope might see in her own abilities, after a year, Medusa chose to promote her to the rank of chal'ak, with the privileges that that entailed – including new and better robes – and the corresponding duties. Meriope knew that there were some who resented the swiftness of her promotion – although even Ilena assured her that her skill spoke for itself – and it was perhaps because of this that Medusa directed Meriope to take a two-week sojourn in Halicarnasus; to let the ill-feeling dissipate.

Having become a skilled rider, Meriope took a horse from the stables of the hall and rode back to Agora as fast as possible. She found Damos and Criton working in the yard and sprang happily down to greet her husband.

"Good day to you, lady?" Damos greeted her, respectfully. "What can we..." He stopped and stared in blank astonishment. "Meriope?"

"Damos?" Meriope asked, concerned.

Damos lunged forward and clasped Meriope in his arms. She hugged him back and he gasped in alarm at her strength.

"I hardly recognised you!" Damos exclaimed.

"I have only been gone a year," Meriope protested.

"But you went away a...a healthy, beautiful Jaffa. You've come back a _goddess_."

Meriope blushed to the roots of her hair. "I have missed you so," she whispered.

Damos kissed her. "Criton," he called over his shoulder. "We may be busy for some time. Take care of the horse and...anything that needs doing."

"Yes, Sir," Criton replied, with an amused grin. He averted his eyes respectfully as Damos lifted his wife in his arms and carried her into the farmhouse.

Later – much later – that day, Meriope and Damos set out in the old wagon to visit Meriope's family in the hills. More than one acquaintance, passing them as they travelled, would later report at the taverna that Damos had been seen in the company of a stranger with whom he seemed a little too friendly and that he had better watch himself if his warrior wife ever found out.

"How is Criton working out?" Meriope asked as they travelled. "My Captain is interested."

"He is a fine worker," Damos replied, "which is more than can be said for that sniffy little chit of his. She turns up her nose at the simplest work and thinks herself too good to speak to any of the hands and most of the family."

"Are they really betrothed?"

Damos shook his head. "She can barely stand his presence; tries to escape from him every chance she gets. He is no more fond of her, but he stays close and he always knows where she is, however hard she tries to elude him."

"Is she coming along at all?"

"Slowly. Mama has taken her in hand."

"I almost feel sorry for her," Meriope laughed.

"Do not. Even Mama is having trouble with her. If that girl had done a _hour's_ work before she came here a year ago, I am of Knossos. Still, you can tell your Captain that we will make a worker of the girl yet," Damos promised. "Even if we have to kill her to do it."

"I'm sure she will be heartened to hear it."

"But enough of them," Damos said. "I want to hear about _you_."

Meriope leaned against her husband's side and talked. She wished that the moment might last forever, just the two of them on that wagon, taking the road up the green hillside to her parents' home.

"Regrets?" Damos asked, when she paused in her tale and sighed. He laid an arm around her shoulders.

"Yes," she admitted, knowing it would be futile to deny it. "Did I do right to go?"

"I would not have let you go so easily if I had ever doubted it," he assured her.

 

*

 

As a chal'ak, Meriope's routine was changed. The day of rituals remained the same, but through the week she spent much less time on simple combat training. She now spent no less than an hour each day studying logistics and strategy in addition to an hour of tactical training. She was now able to read with some fluency and so her afternoon sessions were replaced with formation drill, mass melee practice and technical training with the other apprentices. Two hours of her evening study time were still given over to improving her letters and to increasingly complex mathematics.

There were new skills to be learned as well. For one week of every greater month, the women's section would travel by low-altitude shuttle to Stymphalia. It was a moment that Meriope would always remember when the shuttle first approached the mountain stronghold. They flew high and the first that Meriope saw was the black pinnacle of Mount Geiros stabbing forth from the soft, white body of the cloud layer. Then the cloud leaped upwards and twin vapour trails were dragged in the wakes of a pair of Stymphalian birds which rose to meet the incoming vessel. Great and beautiful machines of trinium steel, decorated with bronze feathers and beaks of gold, the gliders of the God-king Minos swooped around and fell into place beside the shuttle. As they dropped through the thick banks of cloud, the apprentices could see the great mountains rising before them and there at the treeline of Mount 10.0pt"> Geiros sat the mighty fortress of Tek Udajeet Icarus, Master and Keeper of the death gliders. It was from this stronghold that the Jaffa would learn the skills of a pilot.

Back in Akrotiri, one afternoon each week was now set aside for operations training. Under Ilena's guidance, in a precise replica of a Goa'uld ha'tak vessel built beneath the Hall, the chal'ak practiced the skills needed to operate the many stations of the warship. Medusa and her officers monitored these sessions closely, studying the apprentices to see what roles aboard ship they might best serve. After two months, Meriope found herself steered towards tactical oversight and fighter control; Arachne was rarely given a position of great responsibility. She showed a technical flare which often found her in some low-grade engineering role and she was also an expert glider pilot, but wider command was not her forte.

It was the same in their strategic and tactical exercises. Although Arachne remained the superior hand fighter and showed greater skill as a pilot, Meriope swiftly outstripped her in their command studies. One-on-one, Arachne could beat Meriope every time, but the position was reversed if they clashed with squads of skirmishers. As Arachne could now defeat seasoned warriors with staff, sword and axe, so Meriope soon attained a level of strategic and tactical thinking which proved a match for veteran squad leaders.

"I knew that you were a woman with potential," Medusa told Meriope one day, six months after Meriope's promotion.

"It is not so different from herding sheep," Meriope demurred. "Except that the wolves have staff weapons. And so do the sheep."

"Your words are modesty, Meriope, but there is truth in them as well," Medusa assured her. "Your strength as a commander comes from your strength as a shepherdess. You are aware of the entire battlefield; you have a mind for all of your force and you are quick to react and adapt to changes in circumstances, acting to limit the damage at once instead of trying to hold to your plan."

"It is only good sense," Meriope insisted with a blush.

"It is a rare gift; a skill that few possess and which it is hard to teach to those without it."

"My Captain is too kind."

"Your Captain had no time for false modesty, Meriope and you know it."

Meriope inclined her head in humility. "My apologies, Tal ma'te, but truly it does not seem difficult to me."

Medusa smiled. "My point precisely."

 

Meriope was justly proud of her achievements, but it was clearly frustrating for Arachne to see her less experienced classmate outstrip her so. She worked hard to better herself, but although her fighting skills improved by leaps and bounds – eighteen months after Arachne began training with Medusa and Meriope, Semele defeated her in personal combat, after a long and bitter struggle, for what would prove to be the last time – her tactical ability remained undeveloped.

"I do not understand," she complained, bitterly. "How can it be so easy for you, yet so difficult for me?"

The two young Jaffa sat at their ease in Medusa's garden, a great expanse of greenery which sprawled across the roof of the hall. Ordinarily only the Gorgons were permitted to enter the Captain's private garden, but access was a small privilege awarded to Medusa's own chal'ak; the one and only mark of favour which they enjoyed.

Meriope smiled, kindly. "You focus too narrowly," she explained. "When you fight, you see the enemy in front of you, hear the enemies beside you and feel the enemies behind you, but that is all. Nothing else exists for you in that moment, neither friend nor foe; it is what makes you so deadly a fighter."

"And so worthless an officer."

"Not all can lead," Meriope reminded her friend. "One day, I may be called upon to lead a section for our Captain."

"Company," Arachne interrupted. "You will lead the Gorgons, Meriope; mark my words."

"Perhaps," Meriope allowed. "But whatever role I play, I shall always walk alongside others. You may be called upon to bear the Captain's honour alone. I know which one of us I would want as a champion. You are the finest staff fighter in the bash'ak, Arachne; that is no small thing."

Arachne sighed and laid her head on Meriope's shoulder. Although she had trained for five years to Meriope's eighteen months, she was a much younger woman; unmarried and twelve years Meriope's junior. She looked on Meriope as an older sister, and occasionally as something more.

There was an emptiness in Arachne which unnerved Meriope sometimes; a need which she knew she could never fill. Although mindful of that hunger, Meriope laid an arm across Arachne's shoulders. "You shall achieve great things, my sister," she promised, with an emphasis on the salutation.

"Perhaps."

"Trust in me."

"I do, Meriope." Arachne lifted her head and brushed her lips against the corner of Meriope's mouth.

Meriope drew her face back but kept her arm across Arachne's shoulders. Instead of pulling right away from her friend, she stopped her with a kind glance. "I am married and faithful," she reminded Arachne. Not for the first time.

"Damos is far away," Arachne whispered.

"No," Meriope replied. She tapped her breastbone, just over her heart. "He is here, always. I love you, Arachne, but this is something that I can not be for you." It would not have been unusual on Kritos for two young women to share a bed – no more than for two young men to do the same – but as much as she cared for Arachne and as beautiful as the other woman was, Meriope was true to her oaths.

Arachne forced a fragile smile. "I suppose I will just have to make my peace with Ilena then," she joked.

Meriope hugged her young friend, tightly. "You will find someone, Arachne. I swear it."

 

*

 

That autumn, Meriope was again permitted to return home for Harvest Market. After months of Arachne's increasingly ardent advances, Meriope renewed her relations with Damos with an intensity which startled him. He was, as ever, delighted to see her safe and well: In her absence, he had no way of receiving news of her and vice versa; she could now have written, but he could neither have read nor replied to her letters.

On the morning after her arrival, Criton and Denaria were making the morning meal when Meriope was struck by a sudden realisation. "Criton," she said, "you read and write do you not?"

"Yes, Mistress," he replied. "How did you know?"

"Because Captain Medusa insists that all of her warriors learn their letters."

Damos looked up in surprise; Criton and Denaria were less startled.

"I am impressed," Criton said. "It speaks well of you that you are able to recognise a warrior by his bearing. You are quite correct."

"So you could read my letters to Damos; and write his words to me?"

"I could."

Damos gave a sharp laugh. "To Hades with that. I'm not having you read my words to my wife, Criton! You can teach me to read."

"As you wish, Sir."

Meriope hugged Damos tightly; he held her, surprised at the relief which he sensed in her. It was hard for him to be apart from her, but he did not understand why she was so very glad of this lifeline that had been offered. Soon he put this from his mind, however, for there was another question which seemed more pressing to him.

"Why is he here?" he wondered aloud, as he lay by Meriope's side that night.

"Do you not know?" Meriope asked. "He is here to protect Denaria. Why she is important to Medusa I can not say, but she must have some value to warrant a Gorgon as her guardian."

"A Gorgon, no less? But he is so young."

"I doubt I could defeat him," Meriope confessed. "Besides, a regular might grow his hair to disguise his nature, but he would not dare grow it so long."

Damos looked concerned. "Do you think that she might bring danger here?"

"Medusa has said nothing," Meriope replied. "I do not believe that she would put you in peril without warning."

"Will you ask her when you return?"

"There is no need."

"You trust her?"

"I have faith."

Damos nodded. "Then that will be enough for me as well."

 

*

 

After just five short days of Market, Meriope rode back to Akrotiri and while her heart was heavy to leave Damos behind once more, it lifted as she travelled the last few miles to the city. The smell of the sea air now felt as much like coming home as the scents of her beloved Halicarnasus. Meriope paused where the road crested the last hill before Akrotiri and gazed at the city spread out before her, the sprawl of buildings rising up to their heart, the Hall of Medusa at the brink of the cliffs.

It was late in the afternoon on the day of rituals when Meriope returned, but although she searched the library and the observatory and the amphitheatre, there was no sign of Arachne. Somewhat concerned, Meriope even searched the music rooms, although Arachne could barely carry a tune and was quite unable to play even the simplest of instruments. To her dismay, in the smallest music room she ran into Semele, whose skill with the flute far exceeded her command ability.

Semele's hostility towards Meriope had continue to grow, even when it became clear that the older woman owed her no malice and of late she seemed to blame Meriope for the limits which had been placed on her horizons. Ilena's chal'ak was expected to graduate to the regulars before long, but informed rumour had it that she would go no further; she would be a fine squad leader and might even make second prime of a section, but she would never command and she was unlikely to be deemed worthy to wear the mantle of the Gorgons. Meriope had considered explaining to her that it was her own limited imagination and rigid dependence on formal strategies which held her back, but she did not believe that Semele would be receptive.

Semele saw Meriope and set aside her flute with an insufferably smug grin. "Were you looking for Arachne?" she asked.

"Yes," Meriope replied.

"You might try the women's company ancillary armoury," Semele suggested.

"Thank you," Meriope said, courteously, although she could not think what Arachne would be doing in the ancillary armoury, a cupboard of a room in which apprentices could carry out routine equipment maintenance.

Nevertheless, Meriope did go to the little room beside the barracks. The door opened as soon as she spoke the password and that was how Meriope discovered that the ancillary armoury had a second, less formal purpose that she – innocent that she was – had never guessed at. She quickly turned away and closed the door, feeling her skin flush bright red from her head to her toes.

Meriope walked slowly back to the barracks and sat down. "Oh my," she murmured.

"Did you find her then?"

Meriope looked up. Semele was leaning on the door, her grin now triumphant.

"Yes," Meriope replied. She grinned, broadly. "Yes, I did."

Semele's disappointment was palpable. "You are not upset?" she asked.

Meriope laughed, which just seemed to upset Semele even more. "Upset? I am delighted. I always told her that she would find someone."

Semele turned and swept out.

An hour later, Arachne joined Meriope in the refectory. "The Tek ma'shen's granddaughter?" Meriope asked, innocently.

Arachne did not even blush. "Thyia," she said, fondly. "You do not mind?"

"Of course not," Meriope assured her. "I am happy for you." The lie came easily, but in truth she had been gripped by a sudden worry. Arachne spoke of Thyia with an ardency which was not usual in the casual relations encouraged between young companions. The idea of such a relationship was to divert one's urges from liaisons which carried the risk of pregnancy and thus confused issues of inheritance, but Arachne spoke as though she had found a lifelong partner. Meriope might not have been so concerned had she had any confidence that young Thyia felt the same way.

 

*

 

Six years after her entry into the hall, Meriope was summoned to the gymnasium; Arachne was called with her. With great ceremony – and not inconsiderable enjoyment – Ilena shaved their heads to mark them as regulars in the service of Medusa.

"What will Damos think of this?" Arachne whispered when it was done.

"He will adjust," Meriope replied. "What will Thyia make of you?"

"Thyia is betrothed," Arachne said, her words matter-of-fact but her voice brittle.

"I am sorry."

"All is well, my sister," Arachne lied.

"Be silent," Ilena hissed.

Medusa approached and took Meriope's staff. "Meriope of Halicarnasus, you have served me well and shown great promise," the Captain announced. "Now is the time when you must deliver on that promise." With great gravity, Medusa removed the intar crystal from the centre of the mace-head and replaced it with a liquid naquadah power cell. "From now on, Meriope, your weapon will kill in my name. Wield it wisely and with honour and you shall be favoured in my sight."

"Yes, My Captain," Meriope replied, receiving the weapon from her Captain's hand once more. As her hands closed on the haft of her killing staff, she became a full-fledged warrior.

 

*

 

To nobody's surprise save Meriope's, no sooner was she given her staff than she was assigned as the leader of a squad of young warriors whom she had known as chal'ak. Her squad were attached to the assault section of the third company under Primus Dares, a many-scarred, no-nonsense veteran. As Rathe had warned, Meriope now had to share a dormitory with all of the second company, women and men, but the rules against fraternisation in the dormitory were as strict here as under Ilena's watchful eye and she had grown so used to communal living that she barely spared a thought to awkwardness.

When word came that the section was to participate in a raid on an enemy naquadah mine, Meriope was terrified that she would fail in her first mission. It made it harder that Arachne had been assigned to the first company. Meriope would have to go into battle with no friends around her, only enemies; Dares was to cede leadership of this raid to Ilena and Semele was first squad leader of the assault section.

The battle itself was less terrible than Meriope had feared. In the thick of combat she was able to treat it like an exercise; only later would she stop to think and to realise that those who fell would not get up again. The defences on the mining world were impressive, but their coordination was abysmal and the assault section punched swiftly through. They travelled swiftly overland to the narrow canyon which guarded the entrance to the mines.

"Dares; flank left with your command squad," Ilena ordered. "I will bring my squad around to the right. The rest of the section will advance three hundred paces, take cover and engage the defending Jaffa on the canyon walls. The flanking squads will ascend the canyons under cover of the battle and assault the defending positions from behind. Semele; wait for my signal horn before you proceed further along the canyon."

"You stand here," Semele ordered Meriope, as soon as Ilena and Dares were out of earshot. "Keep your squad back and defend the mouth of the canyon."

"Yes, Semele," Meriope replied; she knew that Semele hoped for her to argue and was unwilling to give her the satisfaction.

"I never saw a Jaffa so scared of letting another gain distinction," Meriope's second, Glaucus, muttered.

Meriope shrugged. "Glaucus," she said, "what do you make of that line of hills in the distance."

"They are...a line of hills," Glaucus replied. "It appears that they intersect with the canyon walls, somewhere between here and the mine."

Meriope stared at the hills. "Kree Jaffa," she ordered, her soft voice carrying clearly to her squad. "Ready at the run."

"But the first squad leader..." Glaucus protested.

"Our flanking squads are themselves being flanked along that line of hills," Meriope told him. "I saw something move along there."

"How do you know they were enemy troops?"

"Because it is what _I_ would do," Meriope explained. "Squad, kree!"

With no horn to signal with, Meriope had no way to warn Ilena of the trap. Her only course of action, therefore, was to lead her own squad at a run to intercept the ambushing troops. For once she was grateful for the many hours of gruelling forced marches, and the squad ate up the distance at a fierce pace. The enemy were taken completely by surprise, just as they were taking up positions high on the hill over-looking the mine entrance. When the section emerged from the canyon, the enemy would have been perfectly placed to fire down on Medusa's regulars with heavy weapons and so take a bloody toll of the attackers; as it was, they were themselves swiftly overwhelmed and thrown down from their vantage point.

As the squad scrambled down to rejoin the section at the entrance, Ilena acknowledged Meriope's swift action with a nod and sent her to secure the rear entrance of the mine; that would keep the garrison from sweeping round to flank the section while they made away with several tonnes of raw naquadah. Meriope held her post until the retreat was sounded, and an hour after they set out, the section returned victorious through the Chappa'ai to Knossos.

"You did well, Jaffa," Ilena told Meriope, grudgingly. "I am glad to see that your skill does not desert you in the thick of battle."

"It was Semele who ordered me to hold back," Meriope demurred. "I would not have spotted the ambush otherwise."

Semele merely glowered.

 

*

 

Although the mission had been an unqualified success, Meriope returned home battered and more exhausted than she had ever been in her life. She bathed quickly then fell into bed, without eating or devoting a second to her personal cultivation, or even finding the strength and focus for kelno'reem. She slept for a while, but it was still dark when she was awoken by Dares and ordered to attend on Captain Medusa at once, in full dress armour. As she dressed, Meriope was aware of hard eyes boring into her. It was no surprise for her to note that Semele was glowering up from her bunk, with naked hatred in her gaze. Meriope was shaken, but did her best to ignore the other woman's enmity and headed for the section armoury to collect her armour.

At the doors to Medusa's audience chamber, Arachne stood waiting, almost hopping up and down in her excitement.

"What is happening?" Meriope asked. "What happened to you?" she added, for Arachne looked as battered as she felt.

"I was injured in battle," Arachne replied.

"I did not know..." Meriope fell silent as the doors opened. Her heart swelled with pride to be called before the Captain in this way.

Medusa's audience chamber was a long room with white walls and a low dais at the end furthest from the door. On the dais stood a simple throne of dark wood, on which Medusa sat, with Ilena on her left and Teken on her right. Twelve Gorgons lined each side of the chamber but Meriope did not know which twelve because their heads were encased in the demon-masked helms of their company. Nevertheless, Meriope felt every eye lie heavily on her and Arachne as they made their way forward to stand before the throne.

A side door opened and Primarch Anthus entered, followed by Talus and Leonidas, the two Gorgons who had most recently been elevated to the élite. The two younger men each carried a Jaffa warrior's collar.

At a sign from Medusa, the Gorgons closed in behind Meriope and Arachne. Ilena stepped down from her place at Medusa's hand and stood before the two regulars.

"In the name of Medusa, surrender your staffs," she ordered.

Confused, but obedient, the two women handed over their staff weapons. The next thing they knew, the Gorgons had closed in around them and seized their arms. Hands quickly and efficiently removed their swords and knives. The muted light flashed on steel as the élite drew their own knives and held them high. Only faith in their Captain kept Meriope and Arachne still as the blades flashed down towards them, slicing through the leather straps of their armour; rough hands ripped the protective carapaces from them. Next the knives bit into the fabric of their uniforms and those also were pulled away. The boots were cut from their feet; Meriope almost fell, but the press of Gorgons held her up.

The press and bustle was as terrifying as battle, but Meriope held tight to her faith and stood still. The hands were rough, but she slowly realised that their touch was also respectful and that gave her fresh confidence.

When they had stripped both women down to their under-tunics and smallclothes, the Gorgons stepped back, bearing away the debris of the destroyed garments and armour. Meriope and Arachne stood proudly, secure in the knowledge that they had done nothing wrong and could therefore not possibly be being punished.

The Captain looked down on them, her dark eyes probing their very souls. Apparently Medusa was satisfied by what she saw, because she nodded her head. At this signal, Anthus and Ilena approached the Tek ma'shen, who gave to each of them a shirt of fine-linked chainmail. Bearing these, they approached the young warriors.

"You have both show remarkable courage, ability, spirit and initiative in the service of your Captain," Medusa said. "Your reward is the mantle of the Gorgons, which you have so richly earned."

Two Gorgons approached and helped Meriope and Arachne to don the padded jackets and leggings which were always worn beneath chain mail. Then Anthus held out the shirt which he carried so that Arachne could slide her arms into the sleeves, and he passed behind her to buckle the armour closed at the back.

Ilena did the same for Meriope and as she walked around behind Meriope she whispered in her ear: "Well done, Jaffa." Meriope was so taken aback that the composure which had held throughout the Gorgons' assault on her person almost cracked.

Ilena fastened on the shirt; it was a perfect fit.

Two Gorgons brought mail leggings for their new comrades, then two more brought a pair of boots for each of them. Bronzed trinium-steel greaves were strapped to their legs and then Anthus and Ilena buckled bronze cuirasses onto the torsos of the young warriors. Armoured skirts followed – plated leather strips which hung from the cuirass – then shoulder guards and bracers. Their swords and knives were belted at their waists and their staff weapons were returned to them.

Finally, Talus and Leonidas came forward and placed the collars over the shoulders of those who had now taken their places as the warriors most recently elevated to the élite. The collars were fixed in place and the demon-masked, dreadlocked helms expanded to encompass their heads. It was a strange sensation to see the word through the artificial eyes, but somehow it felt right.

"You are not yet Gorgons," Medusa said, stepping down from her throne. "You will not be Gorgons until your hair has grown and been bound into the serpent locks." Her lips curled into a welcoming smile. "However, until that time we shall view you as our sisters. You shall wear the armour of the station you are to adopt and the privileges and responsibilities of a Gorgon. Your triumphs are mine as are your failures; should you act in a manner unbecoming of my badge and my helm, I shall be most displeased."

Anthus and Ilena came up behind the newly-elevated warriors and draped long cloaks over their shoulders. Medusa stepped forward and fastened their cloaks with her badge; a winged circle divided by an eight-pointed star. She touched the stud on each woman's collar to retract their helms, then dropped a light kiss on their Jaffa tattoos.

"Welcome," she said, simply.

 

*

 

Later, as they smeared the cream that would promote the regrowth of their hair into their scalps, Meriope turned to look at Arachne. Her friend had displayed a new confidence in the last few weeks and this sense was now stronger than ever.

"The first company has not gone to battle for more than two greater months," she said. "How could you have been injured in battle?"

"I was removed from the first company," Arachne explained. "For some time now, I have been training for a different path. You were right when you saw that my role would not be as a soldier or a general."

"Then what...?"

"I am to serve as a...scout of sorts. You may have noticed a certain deficiency in the defences when you made your attack?"

"Well, yes," Meriope admitted.

"You are welcome."

Meriope's eyes widened. "You are..."

"A hunter," Arachne said. "Of sorts."

"An ash..."

Arachne laid a finger on Meriope's lips. "I do not have that skill," she admitted. "I am but a servant of my Captain."

"That is not all you are," Meriope corrected. "You are a Gorgon."

Arachne smiled. "And so are you."


	3. Aeolchis

_Akrotiri, on the planet Kritos_

Becoming a regular had only changed Meriope's daily routine very slightly, but as a Gorgon, her life was very different. She still trained hard, day in and day out, but everything else changed. Firstly, she left the section barracks which had been her home for so short a time and entered the Gorgons' dormitories. Unlike the regulars, the Gorgons did not have a single sleeping area for each section, instead they bedded in groups of twelve, two squads to a dormitory. These clusters inevitably grew close and so Meriope found that she suddenly had more friends than at any time since leaving Halicarnasus.

In the regulars, Meriope had led a squad; in the Gorgons she found herself at the bottom of the ladder once more, but this actually comforted her. She was well aware that she had skill but little experience, and the fact that she now had the chance to work her way up and earn whatever command she gained made her feel like less of a fraud. Moreover, the Gorgons appeared to bear no grudge against her for the speed of her promotion; they accepted her as she was. Even Ilena seemed less hostile now, which was just as well since Meriope had been placed in the second section, of which Ilena was Primus.

She was much busier now and it was difficult for her to find the time to return home to Halicarnasus. She missed her husband greatly, but she did at least have his letters to comfort her. She had also her new friends and of course the old; Rathe and Nissa were always glad to receive her at their home. Meriope had more freedom than ever to leave the Hall and explore Akrotiri in Nissa's company and, moreover, she was permitted, when off-duty, to dress as she chose instead of wearing service robes. With some delight, Nissa had dragged her around the port market and chosen for Meriope a number of flattering chitons and gowns.

It grieved Meriope that she saw so little of Arachne after their promotion, but it could not be avoided. Her friend was often called away on her mysterious and secret missions as Medusa's scout and even in the Hall she spent less time around the barracks than she had done before. Meriope had a sneaking suspicion that Arachne was being courted by the Tek ma'shen's new apprentice – a young man of seemingly infinite patience, named Oloros of Kalipolis – but as Arachne said nothing, neither did Meriope.

As time passed, Meriope's skill began to shine. She grew rapidly in confidence and experience and the officers of the company were not slow to notice. Meriope became the second of her squad in her second year and squad leader three years after that, when her squad leader was promoted. After seven years she was a senior squad leader whose opinions and ideas were respected by her peers and even by the junior primes who led the Company's specialist platoons.

That was how things stood when Minos ordered the Company of Gorgons into battle against one of his rivals, Polythemus. Meriope had taken part in dozens of missions for her Captain by then, but she knew at once that this would be different. Even before the briefing, Medusa's eyes told the Gorgons that this was a fool's fight, but they had faith in their Captain. Where she led, they would follow.

 

Meriope was rather surprised to be summoned to Medusa's command briefing, but it proved that all of the senior squad leaders had been summoned, alongside the platoon and section primes. She listened attentively as Medusa outlined their mission, an assault on Polythemus' fortress on Aeolchis. The first and third sections of the Gorgons would actually form the spearhead of the main assault, by Minos' Taurus Guard, while Ilena's section would be detailed to secure the landing field and hangars. This task was vital, for if Polythemus were able to launch even half of his gliders, they would devastate the Gorgons from the air.

Medusa drilled her plans into all of her officers, making certain that each of them knew their role and the overall scheme of the battle. More importantly, she gave to them their parts in each of three fallback plans and detailed a dozen routes of retreat. "If the assault is successful we are to withdraw from the breached defences and permit the Taurus Guard to take the fortress."

"And the glory," Kephalos, Primus of the First Section, muttered.

Medusa gave a grim smile. "Do not think that theirs is the easy part," she assured her warriors. "Even within the walls this fortress is designed to be held against a determined foe. However, I do not think that it will even come to that. Resistance will be heavy and retreat will be difficult," she explained. "If the assault should collapse, Minos and his warriors will not hold the Chappa'ai for our evacuation, let alone make any kind of sally to retrieve us. Unless we punch all the way through these defences – more than two thousand paces of moats and bulwarks, automated guns, bunkers and mines – to knock on the very doors of Polythemus, there will be no support; no reinforcements."

Meriope shook her head; a slight gesture, but Medusa caught it.

"You have something to say, Meriope?"

Meriope flushed, but spoke out boldly. "Even with the battalion regulars, we do not have the numbers for a frontal assault," she explained. "There _are_ weaknesses in that fortress. Too many ring receivers, weak inland defences; an assault from space..."

"The God-king is most insistent that we make a direct show of his strength," Anthus interrupted her.

"We can accomplish this mission," Meriope insisted, "but not from the Chappa'ai. If he insists on this he will be humiliated in defeat. He must know this."

"He does," Ilena agreed, "but you are wrong. He will not be defeated; we will. The Captain will."

Anthus nodded, grimly. "He will announce that it was Our Captain's errors which cost the battle; he shall establish his superiority without ever having to test himself."

The assembled Jaffa muttered angrily. The idea of their beloved Captain being so abused enraged them. At last Medusa held up her hand for silence.

"I am touched by your concern," she said. "You are correct, Meriope, that this is a foolish way to assault this stronghold. Anthus and Ilena, as you have discerned, this is a blow against me. It seems my efforts in Minos' name have been _too_ successful and he believes that I must be taught a lesson before I become too...arrogant."

The Gorgons snorted in disbelief; one flaw which Medusa could not be accused of was arrogance.

"It is possible that the fortress could be secured by a frontal assault, but the cost would be greater than I am prepared to pay for Minos' vainglory. I therefore believe that no effort should be made to achieve our assigned goal." She allowed a moment for that to sink in. "Instead, our aim shall be to stay alive in spite of this battle. I will not sacrifice you all for _his_ benefit."

The Gorgons said nothing; such talk had long since ceased to shock them. Instead, they listened.

After the other officers of the company had left, Meriope remained in the briefing room, studying the map. She understood Medusa's plans, but she also understood what the Captain had not said. Even with their efforts directed towards survival this would be a bloody struggle. Meriope was certain, however, that there must be some way even those odds a little; something had caught her attention during the briefing, if only she could remember it.

Suddenly it struck her and she was so excited that she hurried to Medusa's chambers without further consideration.

 

Meriope had been so often in and out of Medusa's outer chambers since her arrival at the Hall that the guard at the door barely batted an eyelid at her arrival, merely called in to the Captain then allowed her to pass. The Captain was in conference with Anthus and the Primarch was apparently in a state of some distress.

"He knows," Anthus was saying as Meriope entered. "It is now or never, My Captain..."

"Hold your peace, Anthus," Medusa commanded, her eyes flickering to Meriope. "We shall speak of this later; I understand your fears, but rash action can only endanger us."

"Yes, My Captain."

"Approach, Meriope," Medusa instructed.

Meriope obeyed, although an awkward feeling that she had heard too much made her stomach squirm.

"My Captain," Meriope said. "Primarch."

"Speak your mind."

"I have a thought regarding this assault, My Captain," Meriope explained. Under Medusa's watchful eye, she laid out her thoughts for the Captain's consideration.

At last, Medusa nodded her head. "I will think on this, Meriope. In the mean time, I would like you to accompany me to Stymphalia."

"Yes, My Captain."

"Anthus," Medusa said. "Bring the section primes to the roof garden and summon my teltac."

*

Stymphalia's precipitous beauty had never ceased to awe Meriope, but although she had come to the city a hundred times to train in the gliders she had never before met the Master of the Udajeet himself. Icarus was a reclusive individual and did not emerge from the construction and maintenance hangars to train Jaffa pilots. When Medusa arrived on his doorstep, however, he was there to greet her in person. His golden armour flashed brightly in the sunlight, but Meriope was struck by the fact that it would be difficult to think of anyone _less_ like a god than Icarus. He was small, almost as small as Medusa, and his green eyes were full of fear. His hair, long and red, was remarkable, but his bearing was so nervous and ungodly that all his physical beauty did nothing to alleviate the feeling that this was a man without strength.

Yet despite this, Medusa greeted Icarus with respect and even fondness. "Tek udajeet," she said, holding out her hands to him with a warm smile. Meriope was astonished that she would address this craven godling with a Jaffa honorific and even more so that he would bear it. Most Goa'uld considered the Jaffa dialect to be a peasant tongue and rejected all its trappings; one of the reasons why her Jaffa loved Medusa was her willingness to be addressed by her students as Tal ma'te.

"Captain Medusa," Icarus returned. He took her hands in his and bent over to kiss her fingers, reverently. The look he turned on her was one of worship. "You grace my humble eyrie with your presence. You and yours are ever welcome in the fortress of Stymphalia."

"Thank you, Master Icarus," Medusa said. "Is the Cha'pal jeet ready?"

"She is, although to my shame I have not been able to locate any others of her kind." He cast his eyes down with a look of such heartfelt and pitiful dejection that Meriope almost wanted to take him in her arms and rock him like a child.

Medusa reached out and laid a hand on his cheek. "My dear Icarus, you always expect so much of yourself. That we have this one is better fortune than I could hope for. Please, show us."

Bouncing on the balls of his feet like an eager child, Icarus led Medusa and the company officers to the uppermost levels of the city; to his private hangar. Meriope had heard rumours of the Master of the Udajeet's collection of rare and unusual vessels, but so far as she knew no Jaffa had ever seen them. They were a truly impressive sight, almost two dozen fighters and a dozen larger craft, each one as beautiful as the bronze-winged Stymphalian Birds.

"Here she is," Icarus said, guiding them to a fighter of much the same size as conventional glider, but with its flight surfaces drawn in a ring around the fuselage instead of spreading outwards. The hull plates of the glider had an unmistakable patina of age, save where a layer of bronzed trinium steel had been laid over it to create the feather design of Icarus' hawks. "I finished my repairs and the renovations that you requested ahead of schedule and took the liberty of adding a little decoration to the craft," the nervous Goa'uld admitted. "I hope that you do not mind, Captain Medusa."

"Not at all," Medusa assured him. "She is beautiful, and you deserve such recognition of your work. I must confess that I did not believe you could restore the craft that I first saw here eight months ago. I apologise for my doubts."

Icarus blushed.

"Would you leave us now, please, Tek udajeet," Medusa asked. "I must speak with my commanders alone. Afterwards, they will require refreshment in your pilots' hall," she added as Icarus' face fell.

Icarus' eyes lit up again; it was clear to Meriope that the godling was quite passionately in love with Medusa. "Perhaps, Captain, you would do me the honour of dining with me in my apartments?"

"That would be charming," Medusa replied.

"Then I shall make preparations to receive you, Captain." Icarus bowed, then left the Gorgons to their discussions.

"Well, my Gorgons; what do you make of this?" Medusa asked.

"I have never seen a craft such as this," Meriope said.

"The Cha'pal jeet," Medusa declared. "Known less formally as the threader of the needle. It is an unorthodox design, but most effective; at least, when the pilot is skilled enough to use it." She ran her hand lovingly along the prow of the fighter. "Master Icarus has excelled himself this time," she sighed. "You think very little of him, Meriope, but he is undeniably a genius."

Meriope blushed as the section primes turned to look at her.

"A craft such as this can tip the balance of a battle, but she is a difficult vessel to control and the slightest slip can be fatal," Medusa went on.

"Then who shall pilot her?" Meriope asked. She did not dare to hope that she would be entrusted with this task; she knew that her skill as a pilot was sorely lacking and indeed the reason for her presence here still eluded her.

"It will take the finest pilot I have ever trained to master this hawk. Ilena; do you still feel yourself up to the challenge now that you have seen her?"

"I do," Ilena replied in an awestruck tone. "Capable, but perhaps not worthy."

"That will suffice," Medusa assured her. "Primus Agenor, the weapons of this craft are turret based. Who is the best gunner in your section?"

"Timais of Knossa," the primus of the third section replied.

"Excellent; he will be assigned to operate the weapons systems of the Cha'pal jeet."

"What of the second section?" Meriope asked. "If Ilena is piloting the craft, who will command us?"

"Ilena will assign one of her squad leaders to assume command of the section," Medusa explained. "Have you had cause to reconsider your decision, Ilena?"

 "I have not," Ilena replied.

Meriope nodded her head, slowly. Presumably the first squad leader would be given this honour; Helos, Primarch Anthus' former apprentice, protégé and rumoured lover. "Primus?" she asked, embarrassed, as she heard her name spoken but realised that she had lost the context in her musings.

"A mere pilot for the present," Ilena replied. "That title is yours until this mission is done."

"I...Mine?"

"With My Captain's approval, of course."

Medusa nodded. "I maintain that you have made an excellent choice, Ilena; if only she can stop flapping her mouth in that piscatorial fashion."

The other section leaders chuckled, good-naturedly, at Meriope's discomfort.

"Honestly, Meriope," Ilena asked. "Why did you think you were here?"

"But I am only a squad leader, My Captain."

"A senior squad leader," Ilena corrected, "and the best candidate for this post. I trust my section in your hands, Meriope. Do not let me down."

"Ilena is correct, Jaffa," Medusa agreed. "You have the skill to accomplish this mission, if you will accept this commission. You are still inexperienced and I will not press you to this duty."

"Thank you, My Captain," Meriope replied. "I accept this commission, with great humility."

"Thank _you_ , Jaffa."

"For what, Tal ma'te?"

Medusa gave a melancholy smile. "For the bloody duty that you are to do me in this fight."

*

_Aeochis_

Aeolchis was a maul; brutal and ugly. Any assault through a defended Chappa'ai was a messy affair and even with the support of the Cha'pal jeet, early losses were heavy. Wearing heavy assault armour – massive, ablative plates to protect against heavy defensive fire – the first section's leading squads did not expect to take any part in the mission beyond establishing a beachhead on the enemy world.

On Aeolchis, the sun shone down with inappropriate brightness on the scene where the bloody battle was to take place. When the strange death glider burst from the event horizon of the Chappa'ai, spitting fire in all directions, the garrison were disoriented. The fire line were easy prey for the lead squad, but once the heavy weapons were brought to bear the Gorgons were left to withstand a salvo of plasma fire before the Cha'pal jeet could circle around for another strafing run.

As the main body of the Gorgons came through, they saw that the lead squad had been decimated. Those who were not dead were severely injured and the Captain ordered them to return to Knossa as soon as the Gate could be cycled. They had been in battle for less than ten minutes, but they would return in glory.

"Check the enemy weapons," Medusa ordered, turning to the rest of her troops. A trumpeter stood at her side to relay her commands by horn signal and a servant followed him, carrying the transponder unit for a crude communications unit, scavenged from a glider. "Defence squads, dig in. First and third sections, salvage any additional heavy weapons you can, then on to the fortress. Meriope; to the landing field. Kree!"

Air superiority was the key factor in this mission. Ilena had already taken the Cha'pal jeet forward to strike at the defences between the Chappa'ai and the fortress. The Cha'pal jeet had given the Gorgons an early advantage, but without it the retreat to the Chappa'ai was all but impossible and it would be vulnerable to attack by enemy gliders. Meriope's task was to ensure that there were no enemy gliders to present that threat.

"Skirmishers forward," Meriope ordered, at once. "Air defence, follow; all other squads protect the air defenders. Let no enemy glider take to the wing."

 

Speed was one of the Gorgons' greatest weapons and it did not fail Meriope now. It was over a mile from the Chappa'ai to the landing field, but the first skirmishers reached the perimeter in less than seven minutes. They struck hard and fast, piercing the defences leaving the bulk of the walls standing and capturing rather than destroying the static defences. Meriope had detailed one of her squads to carry adapted glider cannons for use against enemy emplacements and – more importantly – any gliders that flew over their position or tried to launch once they had arrived and these air defenders carried out their role with ruthless efficiency.

Once inside the perimeter, the section spread out across the field, but Meriope's command squad made directly for the control building. There was no way that a single section could hold the entire field for long and she knew that she could not allow any ships to remain after the Gorgons were gone. Capturing the control building was Meriope's idea; she had seen an opportunity, overlooked in Medusa's original plan, to take advantage of the unusual skills of a young Jaffa named Calibos.

To most Jaffa, the technology of the Goa'uld was magic. Even to the Gorgons, anything beyond field maintenance of military equipment might as well have been magic for all that they understood it. Calibos was different. He understood technology – and in particular, computers – on a deep and practical level. Given time, he could make the control systems at the heart of any Goa'uld operation do whatever he wanted them to, whether he had the authority of the god in question or not.

Meriope's second, Glaucus, was uncomfortable with her plan, but he followed where she led. As they waited for Calibos to pierce the system defences, however, he was visibly nervous.

"Check the perimeter sensors," Meriope suggested, principally to give Glaucus something to do.

"A battalion of Jaffa are approaching the perimeter," Glaucus reported. "The defences are holding them at bay but they are spreading along the line and we do not have enough to man the entire wall."

"I am aware of that," Meriope assured him. "Calibos...?"

"A few moments more," the young warrior said. "There. I have it."

"Excellent!" Meriope crowed. "Glaucus, issue the primary fallback signal, then join the other pilots at the fifth hangar. Take control of the gliders there; support the advance, but be ready to fall back to the Chappa'ai if need be."

"Yes, Primus," Glaucus agreed, taking no trouble to hide how impressed he was.

"The rest of you, with me," Meriope ordered. "Another prize awaits us."

 

While Glaucus and the pilots seized control of a wing of gliders, the rest of the second section fell back to a different hangar. They made short work of the guards who had retreated there, only to find all of the systems locked against them by Calibos' intervention, and entered the hangar to seize a fine prize indeed: an al'kesh. It was the work of minutes for the section to secure the cruiser and gain control of the peltac.

"Calibos; override the security codes and give me systems access," Meriope ordered. She went forward to the flight cabin and took her place in the command chair, while two of her most skilled pilots took the flight seats.

Meriope picked up a communicator unit and fixed it on her cheek. She touched the console at her side, recalibrating the ship's antenna to receive and broadcast on the command frequency which Medusa was using to communicate with the Cha'pal jeet.

" _Engines engaged_ ," Calibos reported from the peltac. " _Turret cannons activated; ordnance bays...fully-loaded, Primus_."

Meriope smiled. "Fates be thanked," she sighed. She toggled the shipwide address system. "All Jaffa to launch stations; secure for departure." Without needing to await confirmation, Meriope switched to an external channel. "Glaucus?"

" _We are on our way to the fortress_ ," Glaucus reported.

"Excellent. Captain?" she asked, tentatively.

" _Kree Jaffa!_ " Medusa snapped. " _There is a ha'tak vessel in orbit; evacuate the landing field before you become a target._ "

"Yes, My Captain," Meriope replied. "Jaffa; take us up, now!"

The pilots obeyed at once and the al'kesh tore from its hangar mere moments before the structure was pulverised by a volley of orbital fire.

"How may we assist, My Captain?" Meriope asked.

" _Our retreat is cut off and Polythemus is using the ha'tak's transport rings to relay reinforcements from around the planet,_ " Medusa said.

"I understand, My Captain," Meriope said. She turned to her pilot. "Make for the fortress; target the torpedoes on the ring arrays. We shall cut off their reinforcements and then concentrate on those who have surrounded the first two sections. Gliders, clear a path to the Chapp'ai. All craft stay on the move and change course often."

The al'kesh moved off, evading a stream of fire from the ha'tak vessel until it was too close to the fortress for Polythemus' gunners to risk firing. Obeying Meriope's orders, the Jaffa lunached a salvo at the ring arrays, crippling the transport receivers and tearing rents in the walls. Seeing the danger, the gunners on the ha'tak risked a few more shots, but only succeeded in blasting a greater hole in the fortress wall.

Even Meriope was stunned by the success of her plan; the fortress of Aeolchis was laid bare. Supported by the Taurus Guard, the Gorgons would sweep in and conquer where they should have died.

" _Ilena,_ " Medusa snapped. " _Has Lord Minos launched his strike?_ "

" _No, My Captain,_ " Ilena replied. " _The Taurus scouts have retreated._ "

" _Fates destroy that coward,_ " Medusa muttered. " _We had a chance. I am sounding the retreat; let all ships guard us as we go._ "

The al'kesh swept back to support the gliders and blast a path to the Chappa'ai for the beleaguered Gorgons. Once the retreat was in full flow, she ordered the gliders to land and the pilots to return home, leaving only her own craft and Ilena's in the air.

" _Jaffa!_ "

"My Captain," Meriope responded.

" _My squad has been cut off while defending the rear,_ " Medusa said. " _You will retrieve us._ "

"Yes, My Captain." Meriope's blood ran cold to think that Medusa was one of those trapped. She did not dare to consider the tortures that might be inflicted on her beloved Captain if she were captured by an enemy Goa'uld. More than that, however, Medusa was the one who made the Gorgons what they were. If _she_ should die, her soldiers would surely be absorbed by Minos' army; after Medusa, Meriope knew that she could never serve under such a witless butcher.

The al'kesh swooped low over the battlefield, her turret cannons scattering Polythemus' Jaffa and allowing the vessel to settle over the stranded group of Gorgons. To Meriope's relief, Medusa was still on her feet.

The ring transporter activated.

"Move!" Meriope ordered, and once more the al'kesh evaded a blast from the ha'tak.

" _The Chappa'ai is almost over-run,_ " Ilena reported.

" _Go, Primus,_ " Medusa ordered. " _Complete the retreat. We shall return home by ship._ "

" _Yes, My Captain,_ " Ilena responded, reluctantly.

The door from the peltac opened, admitting the Captain in person. Her armour was stained with soot and blood. "To the Chappa'ai," she ordered. "Destroy the dialling device."

"Yes, My Captain," Meriope agreed. She began to rise from the command chair.

"No, Jaffa," Medusa said. "This command is yours. Once the Chappa'ai is disabled, make for deep space and set a course for Kritos."

"Yes, My Captain."

"I..." Medusa paused, an expression of infinite weariness flashing momentarily across her features. After that moment, her defences were back in place, her face a perfect mask of calm. "I must see to our wounded."

Medusa turned and left the cabin; after a moment, Meriope addressed the pilots. "You heard the Captain's orders."

"Yes, Primus," the pilot replied. "We are in position over the Chappa'ai."

"Our warriors?"

"None remain...alive."

Meriope closed her eyes. "Destroy the dialling device," she ordered. The al'kesh shivered as the bomb bays discharged their load; the ground around the Chappa'ai boiled and the ring itself – although physically unharmed by the raging plasma – toppled sideways. The gliders that her pilots had abandoned in the area were consumed, their power cells erupting in a series of brilliant flares.

"Activate the cloak," Meriope said. "Quickly; while the ha'tak's sensors are blinded by the explosion. Bring the al'kesh around to the far side of Aeolchis so that out hyperspace window  will be concealed, then take us home."

"Yes, Primus."

"And pray the Fates that we go unseen."

*

The first hour of the hyperflight was the most terrifying of Meriope's life. She knew that the al'kesh's engines could not possibly compete with the ha'tak's and she knew that their course could easily be predicted. The pilots did their best to confuse the trail, but for all of their precautionary manoeuvres, Polythemus must have known that they would head for Kritos and they could not afford to spend long jinking to-and-fro while the wounded lay in the cruiser's meagre infirmary and the dead were wrapped  in cloths and laid in state in the depleted bomb bays.

Once she was reasonably confident that there was no pursuit, Meriope ordered her crew to set a direct force for home at maximum speed. It would still take over two weeks for the al'kesh to cover the vast distances between Aeolchis and Kritos and she wondered how many would die in the mean time. She wondered how many would die when they arrived home in disgrace. Would a new captain command in Akrotiri? Meriope could hardly bear the thought that it might be so.

Meriope put her hand to her communicator and activated the channel to the peltac. "Glaucus," she said, before remembering that her second had been with the glider pilots. "Calibos?"

" _Yes, Primus._ "

"What is the known status of the Company?"

There was a pause as the young warrior collated reports. " _Information is incomplete,_ " he began, " _but the company has suffered losses of between thirty and one-hundred dead; at least twice as many wounded. In our section, twelve were slain on the ground and eight in the air; nineteen wounded are currently in the askap'on and seven dead have been laid in state in the empty aft bomb bay. Primarch Anthus is among the dead,_ " he added, in a reverent tone. " _They say that he took a blast to save the Captain_."

"And this vessel?" Meriope asked.

" _The al'kesh was well-stocked,_ " Calibos confirmed. " _We have adequate food and water for the journey to Kritos and although the ordnance is largely depleted, all systems are fully functional._ "

"How long until we arrive at Akrotiri?"

" _Twenty-five days and seven hours at maximum speed, Primus. We can achieve greater speed by running the engines beyond their safe limits, but we would have to stop periodically to allow the drives to cool and to effect maintenance. If you wish, I can calculate a pattern of such pauses to optimise our flight time._ "

"Do so," Meriope ordered. "If you can reduce the time by more than two days, you have my authority to implement the pattern."

Meriope cut the channel and leaned back in her seat. Her own part in the fighting had not been as strenuous as some, but she felt exhausted. She desperately wanted a chance to shower and perhaps even to take a long, hot bath; she wanted to lie on one of the pallets in the steam room while Arachne rubbed all the aches from her muscles. Unfortunately, the al'kesh had neither baths nor showers, and certainly not a steam room. The Jaffa would not starve or die of thirst during their voyage, but they would begin to smell rather bad.

" _Primus Meriope._ "

Meriope's eyes snapped open. "My Captain," she replied, concerned. Medusa sounded weary; she seemed almost to be distraught.

" _You must join me in the askap'on at once, Primus._ "

"Yes, My Captain."

 

By the time Meriope reached the askap'on, the nineteen wounded had already been reduced to fourteen; one had been healed, four more had succumbed to their injuries. Those who remained were quiet, many of them sleeping for the time being. Captain Medusa sat beside one of the occupied bunks, but her healing device lay, unused, by the side of the bed.

"My Captain," Meriope whispered.

"Approach, Meriope," Medusa replied. She stood and turned to face her Primus; as she did so, Meriope saw who it was that lay on the bunk.

"Rathe!"

Medusa laid a hand on Meriope's shoulder as she started forward. "His prim'ta is dying," she said. "It is slipping away very slowly, but it _is_ dying; his body can be healed with my hand device, but a prim'ta..." she shook her head, sadly. "Alas that there is no other surviving in the pouches of the dead to take its place. I am sorry, Meriope."

"Warriors die," Meriope replied, forcing herself to be stoic and calm.

"Weep," Medusa said, "for he was your friend." She moved past and left Meriope alone with Rathe.

Meriope sat at Rathe's bedside, took his hand and wept.

"Meriope?"

"Rathe."

"I am dying, am I not?"

Meriope tried to deny it, but she could not speak.

"I know I am," Rathe assured her. "I can feel it, but even if I could not, I have not heard you cry in years, my friend. You do not have to cry; we have always known the perils of our life and it is at least a life that we _chose_."

Meriope squeezed Rathe's hand, tightly. He was an experienced campaigner now; a warrior and a father, whose eldest son would soon begin his own training in the bash'ak; a skilled commander in the Gorgons, respected and granted great status within the city of Akrotiri. Looking at him, Meriope did not see that; she saw only her friend, the fresh-faced young vineyard hand who had smiled so sweetly when he received her first kiss.

"What can I say to Nissa?" Meriope asked.

"You can tell her that I died without pain," he suggested.

"That is not true," Meriope protested.

Rathe forced a smile onto his pallid, bloody face. "It hardly matters," he assured her. "It would please me to know that she believed it. Tell her that I died peacefully, knowing that I had served My Captain faithfully, and that my last thoughts were of her and of our children."

"Rathe..."

"Meriope. There is nothing else for me to say, is there. She is my wife and I love her; there is nothing that matters more to me than her happiness. She is..." He tried to sit up, but broke off, wincing in pain.

"Lie still," Meriope begged. "Rathe, please..."

"Oh, Meriope," Rathe sighed. "Mine has been a _good_ life, my dearest friend."

There was a long pause before he spoke again, and Meriope's hand tightened on his. His eyes closed and he grew so still that she almost thought that he had passed away, but at length he whispered:

"Would you...Meriope; please take the prim'ta from my pouch. I think that it is dead anyway, but I wish for the Rite of M'al Sharran. You will stay with me?"

"Of course."

Meriope bent forward and laid a gentle kiss on Rathe's brow. Then she reached beneath his armour and pulled the bloody ruin of his prim'ta from his body. "Do you see?" she whispered, in a voice choked by tears. "Do you see the path that you have walked?"

"Yes," he murmured. "I see it and I am pleased. I have few regrets, Meriope. I only wish that..."

"Yes?"

"I wish that I had been wiser as a boy," he admitted. "I wish that I could have seen then what I know now; that the love that sought me out was more fine than the love that fled from me."

"I do not understand."

Rathe's lips curled into a wistful smile. "I see myself in the hills of Halicarnasus. I am running; chasing. Chasing after Meriope. Nissa is here, but I do not run after her; I find little sport in chasing Nissa, for she never runs away. Sometimes, she even chases me."

"She loves you," Meriope whispered. "Always, she loved you."

"I knew it, yet...I was a fool, Meriope. I chased after you because you would not give in to me. I believed that that which could not easily be won must be sweeter than that which was freely offered. When you found another, I ran away; Nissa gave herself to another man in order to stay close to me and still I could not see that she – not you – was the one for me. Oh, Meriope; we were such fools and you were so wise."

"I have no wisdom."

"You found Damos and you stayed with him; _I_ should have stayed with Nissa and _she_ should have known better than to try and follow me."

"You know that I do love you, Rathe?" Meriope asked.

"And I you, Meriope," he replied. "I have two sisters and neither one is dearer to me than you are, but I should have seen sooner that ours was not the love of lovers."

"Do not dwell on regrets," Meriope told him. "Think of what you have achieved. Think of your family."

Rathe's eyes opened and stared at something that Meriope could not see. "Yes," he whispered. "Nissa; oh, dearest Nissa. And my children."

"Yes. Four children; few Jaffa unions are so blessed as yours."

"You will look after them, will you not?"

"Of course I shall."

"Say nothing to Nissa yet," Rathe added, "But...but if she should...should find..." He swallowed hard. He was breathing his last now and Meriope leaned over to hear his final words. "If she should find someone new, tell her that she has my blessing," he murmured.

"I shall, Rathe," Meriope promised. "I shall tell her."

Rathe squeezed her hand with the last of his strength. "I die well, old friend," he gasped. "I die true."

And then he was still.

Meriope laid her hand across his face and closed his staring eyes. She folded his hands across his breast and placed his dagger under his grasp. She closed her own eyes and steadied her breathing, then she straightened her back and gave voice to the ancient lament of the hill folk of Halicarnasus. As she sang, she thought that she heard a second voice joining hers, but her eyes stung with grief as the pain flowed up from her heart and fells as tears from her eyes, and she could see nothing but a blur.

As the final note of the lament faded away, Meriope wiped her eyes. To her astonishment, she saw the second singer standing opposite her; it was Medusa.

"In seven millennia, I have sung for every one of my dead warriors," the Captain said. "It is rare that I do so as publicly as this."

"I am honoured to have witnessed it," Meriope said. "May I...?" She averted her eyes.

"Yes?"

"Tal ma'te; it would mean a great deal to Nissa if I could tell her that you sang the lament over her husband's body."

"I can not allow you to do that," Medusa said, apologetically. "I always make a point of bearing such news to the family in person."

"Thank you, My Captain."

Medusa leaned down and kissed Rathe's brow in benediction, then she led Meriope from the askap'on. "I have lost many fine servants today," she said, "but few will grieve me so much as he loss of Rathe. He was skilled and the regulars revered him, and loyalty such as his is rare indeed. He was your friend: the first that you have lost?"

Meriope nodded her head. "For a time I thought I might marry him," she admitted. "Long ago; before I even met Damos. It would have been a mistake, but he has always been very dear to me; he and Nissa alike."

"I know of your history together. I had Rathe tell me all that he knew of you, before I came to meet you at the Market."

"You did?" Meriope was taken aback.

Medusa nodded. "Did you think that I came to Agora simply to buy cloth? I have servants to attend to such tasks, Meriope; the real Niao among them. I came for one reason only; to meet with you. You intrigued me. Few Jaffa women volunteer for service in war; they are taught that it is not their place. Some learn to defend their homes, but it is usually only if one such as myself spots their potential that a woman becomes a warrior."

"I...I did not mean to be impertinent," Meriope assured the Goa'uld.

Medusa laughed, kindly. "If you have not already realised it, Meriope, I am rather fond of those Jaffa who show me a little impertinence. I knew before I met you that you would have potential. The last time that a woman sought to train with my company must have been fifty years ago. That was Ilena."

"I do not have her skill," Meriope demurred.

"No," Medusa agreed. "But you are only forty-five; she is eighty-one. You shall learn much in thirty-six years."

"Yes, My Captain."

Medusa touched a hand to Meriope's brow in benediction. "You did well on this mission," she said. "You have saved the lives of many of your comrades, and perhaps rescued me from an eternity of torment."

Meriope bowed her head. "It was my duty and my honour, Tal ma'te."

"The honour is mine," Medusa assured her.


	4. Tok'ra

_Akrotiri, on the planet Kritos_

Following the failed assault on Aeolchis and a two week journey through the void of space, it did Meriope's heart good to see the city of Akrotiri as they plunged out of the clouds. As they approached, Meriope hailed the hall.

" _Tek ma'tek, Primus,_ " Ilena replied. " _Is all well with you and yours?_ "

"All is well with me and mine," Meriope replied, indicating to her commander that Captain Medusa was aboard the al'kesh. She could not hold back a tear at the thought of how untrue that statement was in and of itself. "How are things with you?"

" _Precarious,_ " Ilena said. " _I have cleared the main landing pad; I will meet you there._ "

Meriope acknowledged the message and directed the pilot to bring the al'kesh in on the second pad; it was probably unnecessary to take such stringent precautions, but in the aftermath of the catastrophe on Aeolchis, the Captain was taking no chances.

The ship touched down without incident, and as the Jaffa unloaded their dead from the bomb bays of the al'kesh, Primus Ilena emerged to meet her Captain. Glaucus, the Gorgon who had served as Meriope's second-in-command, followed a respectable distance behind Ilena, as Meriope stood at Medusa's back.

"My Captain," Ilena said. "It is a great relief to see you safe. There is much news to tell you."

"Glaucus can see that I know all I need to know," Medusa replied. "You must..."

The Captain drew Ilena aside and continued in a low whisper. Whatever she said must have hit Ilena hard, because the powerful Jaffa almost stumbled; Meriope had never seen her looking so frail. She nodded once to her Captain, then made her way, unsteadily, to the loading hatch and the procession of wrapped bodies.

"What has occurred here, Glaucus?" Medusa asked.

"We have lost a third of the Gorgons," Glaucus replied, sadly. "Your own death was rumoured, My Captain; Demarch Ilena has been stalling the surrender of the hall to one of Minos' other Captains, but if you had taken a few days longer you might have had no hall to return to."

Medusa nodded her understanding. "And how is the God-King's mood?"

"Mixed," the Jaffa admitted.

"That is better than I would have expected," Meriope admitted.

"He is angry that his great assault failed," Glaucus went on, "but he could not criticise too much after word reached Kritos that Polythemus was dead."

"He is dead?" Medusa asked.

"Killed by his own ha'tak vessel. The shot that was meant for the Primus' al'kesh breached the fortress wall and destroyed Lord Polythemus'; his body was incinerated beyond all hope of resurrection."

"Fates be praised," Meriope gasped. "Please pardon my superstition, My Captain."

"In this case, you may be justified," Medusa allowed. "By pure good fortune we are saved from Lord Minos' wrath over his own incompetence and cowardice. It will be politically desirable for him to shower me with praise and we will, of course, be required to thank him for his divine aid in battle." She shook her head. "I will muster out some of the regulars to make a show of gratitude," she decided. "I would not ask it of my Gorgons; not at this time."

"What should we do?" Meriope asked.

"I shall close the hall," Medusa decided. "We shall mourn in private. Glaucus, bear these orders to the command chamber. All entrances and exits to the hall are to be sealed and my personal transport is to be prepared for flight to Knossos."

"Yes, My Captain."

As Glaucus hurried away, Medusa turned to Meriope. "You must go swiftly," she said. "You will not be permitted to leave once the gates are sealed."

"My Captain?"

"I grant you three weeks leave, Meriope, on the condition that you take the sad word of Rathe's death to his kin in the valleys. I shall, of course, speak with his widow anon, but while the other dead are, for the most part, from the coastal cities, I must send someone to Halicarnasus with that sad news."

Meriope bowed her head, joy warring with the sorrow in her heart. "As you command, My Captain."

"Try to cast sorrow and care aside for these weeks," Medusa added. "Your service has been outstanding and you may find that I lean heavily upon you when you return."

*

Meriope did her best to obey Medusa's instructions and while barely a day went by without her thinking of the deaths of her friends and comrades, she was at least able to relax by night, in the loving arms of her husband. She noted also that there were changes at the farm. Denaria, the girl that Medusa had asked Damos to take in as a labourer, was finally accepting her place. The young Jaffa had arrived in Halicarnasus with no idea how to work; unaccustomed, not merely to farm labour, but to any kind of _effort_ whatsoever. Medusa had sent Denaria into hiding and so Meriope never asked who she had once been, but she could not help wondering; very few people on Kritos had no cause to work and fewer still would have been granted the personal protection of one of Medusa's Gorgons, as Denaria was.

But neither her husband's love, nor idle speculation could keep her mind from the dark memories of Aeolchis. The three weeks flew by and the pain was still with her when she returned to Akrotiri. On arrival in the city she went first to visit Nissa and her children, where she was pressed to stay for dinner. Looking around the table at the four children, Meriope remembered what she had said to Rathe on his deathbed. She had counselled him to think of his family and be proud; she felt that she had never given truer advice.

The eldest, Acastus, was twenty years old and planned to enter the bash'ak that summer. Meriope was sure that Nissa would resist this intention for a while, but that Acastus _would_ become a warrior; he had too much of Rathe's bearing to think otherwise. The second child, Antigone, was a tall and spare-framed girl of nineteen, studious rather than dynamic and quiet, especially compared with her siblings. The third, Priam, was a daring fourteen year old and the image of his father in both looks and youthful temperament. The youngest, Helena, was just two years old.

To Meriope's surprise, they were joined by her closest friend among the Gorgons, Medusa's personal agent, Arachne. With the hall sealed, Arachne should not have been able to leave, but then, walls had rarely meant much to Arachne; that was why she was Medusa's personal agent.

"Can you tell me what has been happening in the hall since our return?" Meriope asked her friend, when the dinner was finished and Nissa's children were helping their mother in the kitchen.

"Ilena has been elevated to the rank of Primarch," Arachne replied.

"There is little surprise there," Meriope noted.

"Indeed; but something weighs heavily upon her."

"Ilena?" Meriope was surprised to hear of any sign of frailty from the redoubtable Ilena, but she remembered the Primus' posture on the landing pad.

Arachne nodded. "She has withdrawn to her new quarters and rarely sees her apprentices. Even Semele has been dismissed from Ilena's company."

Meriope nodded, thoughtfully.

"You do not seem surprised."

"Hmm."

"I would have thought that she would have sought comfort from her lover," Arachne went on.

Meriope smiled, sadly. "Semele is not Ilena's lover," she said. "I do not believe that she ever has been."

Arachne looked baffled. "I beg your pardon?"

"Ilena lost someone on Aeolchis," Meriope explained. "Someone very important to her, but Semele is a regular; she was not even a part of the assault."

"Then who?" Arachne demanded. "Surely we would have known if another woman were visiting the Primus?"

"There was no-one else coming to her; she went to her lover. She went and we _all_ knew it."

"Not all," Arachne laughed. "I have no idea what you are talking about, Meriope."

Meriope sighed, patiently. "Who did Ilena spend no less than an hour of each day with?" she asked. "Whose chambers did she visit, far more often than she retreated to her closet with Semele?"

"No-one," Arachne replied. "She was far too busy with her duties as Section Prime and aide to the Primarch. How could she have slipped away to meet her lover when she spent half of her waking hours in Anthus' quar..." Arachne stared at Meriope in astonishment. "No!" she gasped, scandalised.

"If her assumed relationship with Semele _were_ just a cover, why would she want so much to keep her other affair secret?" Meriope challenged. "A fling with another woman? That would be nothing to hide; all of the unmarried warriors have affairs."

"As do many of the married ones."

"But if Ilena were lying with a man, especially the Primarch, there could be a scandal."

"It would be a sin under the laws of Minos," Arachne said. "To lie with a man unwed..."

"Shh!" Meriope hissed. "Do you not know that Nissa lay with Rathe before they were handfasted?"

Arachne's eyes widened in amazement. "No. I had assumed they were a pair of life-bound country lovebirds, like you and Damos."

"They had far less patience," Meriope replied. She stood and led Arachne to the quiet and isolation of the patio which overlooked Nissa's little garden.

"And yet he married her, even though she had surrendered to him?" Arachne no longer sounded scandalised; she sounded impressed, and a little envious.

"He loved her. He did not care that he had had her already; he did not care that she had been another warrior's woman."

Arachne made a small, choking noise. "She had an adventurous youth, your friend."

"Both of them did."

Arachne shook her head in amazement. "And you believe that Ilena and Anthus were engaged in such an affair?"

"I do, although you must never repeat that."

"Of course," Arachne agreed. "Ilena would have our helms; and the heads within them too!"

Meriope frowned. "Such talk is harmless between friends, but made public it could destroy the Gorgons. There can be no suggestion that Ilena was favoured for anything but her skill."

"I see," Arachne lied, then she admitted: "Politics was never my strongest subject." She sighed. "I should go if I am to return to the hall before my watch."

"How do you enter the sealed hall?" Meriope asked.

Arachne grinned. "That is for the Captain and me to know," she said. "I shall bid your friends goodnight and then go. I shall see you in the hall when the doors reopen tomorrow?"

"Absolutely."

*

Knowing that Arachne would treat the confidence of their discussions as a sacred bond, Meriope was rather shocked when, on returning her horse to the stables, she was ordered to attend on Ilena in the Primarch's office, immediately. She did her best to straighten herself out, but feared that she must look a terrible mess as she bowed before her new commander.

"Primarch." She snuck a glance at Ilena as she bowed and realised that her own, modest dishevelment was of no note in the Primarch's company.

Ilena's eyes were hooded from lack of sleep and raw with her grief. In public she must have managed to maintain her composure well, but here in her private office it was clear that she was holding herself together by sheer force of will. Meriope was shocked to see the Primarch allow herself even that small a slip; she had thought Ilena too proud to ever display her emotions to a common warrior.

"Be seated, Jaffa," Ilena said, her voice cracked and hoarse.

Somewhat disconcerted by Ilena's appearance, Meriope took the offered chair across the desk from Ilena in silence. That silence stretched on into minutes, until at last Meriope could not help herself.

"My sincerest condolences," she said.

Ilena inclined her head, making no attempt to dissemble. "He was a good man," she replied. "Only, he was too old-fashioned to admit to a warrior-wife; his mother's influence."

"You were married!" Meriope at once felt foolish for her outburst.

Ilena only smiled, wistfully. "In secret. He knew that his parents would never accept me, and so we told no-one. It always felt as though what I had should be enough. Until now. Now he is gone, and there is nothing left to me. In truth, I always wondered if he were not a little ashamed of me and now that doubt eats away at every happy memory that I try to summon."

There was another long, uncomfortable silence. This time, Meriope only coughed to relieve the pressure.

"There is much to be organised, Meriope," Ilena said. "The company is crippled, for now. I must select two section primes to support me, reorder the surviving members of the company, see to the disposition of the regular Jaffa...Even I never dreamed how much he did, and I was his right hand."

Meriope worried that Ilena was rambling. "Primarch?"

"That is the first thing I need," Ilena said. "A right hand; someone strong, disciplined and organised. Some time in the future the company will be up to strength again; at that time I will make you prime of the third section."

"Primarch?"

"You are, as I am often reminded, a Jaffa of exceptional gifts and potential."

"But, Primarch...you hate me."

Ilena looked Meriope in the eye for a long moment. Slowly, her raw, red eyes began to shimmer. Meriope thought that she must be about to cry, but instead she threw back her head and laughed out loud.

"Primarch?"

"My dear Jaffa," Ilena laughed. "If I truly hated you, I would have seen you dead by now. I _was_ jealous of you, I admit it, but I know now that you are no threat to me."

"I have never had anything but the greatest respect for you as a commander," Meriope assured her.

"Even if you doubted me as a woman."

"I would not..."

"I admit to my flaws," Ilena assured her. "I feared, foolishly, that you would steal Anthus from me. I am not a beautiful woman, Meriope; Anthus was my sparring partner and he was impressed by my skill, not my looks. When Medusa chose another woman to train with her in person..."

"I had no interest in Anthus."

"I know," Ilena replied. "You were true to your vows, as I was to mine. You are a good and true Jaffa and that is why I need you now."

"But I am not the most senior Jaffa in the company."

"I do not _want_ a senior Jaffa," Ilena assured her. "I do not want a veteran who will second guess my commands; I want a Jaffa who will serve me faithfully and protect my warriors if I can not. You have proven to me that you can do that. I thought that we had lost far more than we did on Aeolchis." In a whisper that Meriope could barely make out, she added: "I thought that we had lost _her_."

Ilena stood and walked to her stove, where a pot of klah'c was bubbling away. She poured two mugs and handed one to Meriope before returning to her seat.

"When I was your age, or a little younger even, Anthus – then only a section prime, it is true – made me _his_ right hand. He has spent the last forty-five years grooming me to take his place and now I will do the same for you."

Meriope's jaw hung open, stunned into silence.

"Primarch?" Ilena prompted, aping Meriope's startled tone. "I _know_ you are not ready to be Primarch," she went on, when Meriope still said nothing. "But you will be. I will make sure of that, and I plan to give you a good, long time to get ready." She took a long draught of her klah'c. "I will not be gentle with you, Jaffa; I will make you strong, but you will probably hate me for it often."

"You were _your_ patron's wife," Meriope pointed out.

Ilena smiled, sadly. "Do not think that that means I did not hate him."

Meriope was taken aback. "You... _hated_ your lover? Your husband?"

"Sometimes," the Primarch conceded. "I fully expect you to hate _me_ , anyhow."

"And...the other?"

Ilena sat back with a weary sigh. "I am done with lovers," she assured Meriope. "You will serve only as my adjutant. You will take charge of the women's barracks, act as my messenger about the capital, assist me in dealing with sundry administrative matters, as well as advising me in formulating battle plans. When I enter battle you will be at my side, at least until I assign you to section command. If I am killed or otherwise incapacitated, you will take command of the company and the Captain's battalion."

Meriope blushed. "I am honoured that you think me able..."

"I do not," Ilena assured her. "However, I do not intend to be incapacitated."

"No, Primarch; of course not."

"Now, the bulk of your time will be taken up with study," Ilena said. "If you thought that your training as an apprentice was hard, you will soon come to look on those days as a time of idle contemplation. You will be overwhelmed, but I believe that you have it in you to master all that a Primarch must know one day."

"Thank you, Primarch." Meriope was beginning to feel overwhelmed already. Ilena was usually cool and laconic; for her to volunteer such a stream of information was almost unheard of.

"Do not thank me; I am not trying to flatter you, you know."

"Of course not, Primarch."

"And call me Ilena, damnit! I can't stand all this ‘Primarch'. While we are in private, call me Ilena; just not in public or people will think that you _are_ my lover."

"Of course, Ilena. I mean...of course not; I think."

Ilena sighed, patiently. "You should know that this is a very special desk," she said. "There is a plasma weapon built into it. I have only to touch a switch and it will fire into whoever is sitting in that chair."

"What?"

"Listen very carefully, Meriope," Ilena said, seriously. "What would happen if I fired this weapon when our Captain was sitting where you are now?"

Meriope was briefly dumbstruck. "She...she would kill you," Meriope said, completely taken aback.

Ilena reached down and placed her hand on something beneath the desk. "Tell me the truth, or I will kill you, here and now. I have no time for a liar in my service."

Meriope swallowed hard, in real fear for her life.

"Meriope?" Ilena's voice brooked no further hesitation.

"She carries no shield," Meriope whispered. "She would die."

"How do you know that?"

"I struck her in training," Meriope admitted. "She bled. I realised then that..."

"You struck her!" Ilena roared.

"Yes, Primarch." Meriope's voice was almost inaudible.

Ilena took her hand out from under the desk and sat back, a look of something like awe on her face. "I was training with her for twenty years before I managed to land a tap. You truly are gifted, Meriope."

"I...I was lucky."

"Against the Captain, luck alone will not suffice. Formally, I am to take over your training, but I suspect that Medusa will want to keep control over it."

"Yes, Primarch."

"Ilena."

"Ilena."

"And Meriope...?"

"Yes, Ilena?"

"Please speak up. Very little annoys me so much as the sound of mumbling."

Meriope stared at the Primarch for a long moment. At last she spoke, and her voice was clear and strong. "Yes, Ilena."

*

The next day, Meriope dined with Nissa once more. Her old friend was delighted by the news of Meriope's promotion and insisted on making a fuss of her. She busied herself in the kitchen, while Meriope told the four children stories of their father; of his exploits in battle and of his qualities as a man.

"Are you sad that he is gone?" Antigone asked, watching Meriope with large, melancholy eyes.

"Of course," Meriope replied, and for the first time since she had sung his lament, she felt tears well up in her eyes for the loss of Rathe. "Your father was one of my oldest and dearest friends and I will miss him as greatly as I would miss my own heart if it were cut out. But the loss of a friend can be survived and we can take comfort in the manner of his passing. He was a warrior and he died a warrior's death; he died true. I hope that in my time I can pass with such honour."

"I will be a warrior one day," Acastus proudly declared.

"No!" Nissa snapped, hurrying in from the kitchen. "I will not allow it, Acastus! You will not die for Lord Minos!"

"Nissa!" Meriope scolded. "Quiet your voice or still your tongue. If you speak such words so loudly then all who hear will pay the price."

Nissa fell into scowling silence.

"I will see to the dinner," Antigone offered, rising to her feet so that Nissa could sit down, facing the guest. Helena leaned against her mother's leg and went to sleep.

"Thank you," Nissa said. "I am sorry, Meriope," she added, after a pause. "My heart is raw still; I did not think."

Meriope laid a hand over Nissa's. "You have cause for anger, old friend, but you have four causes for prudence. Moreover, Acastus has never spoken of serving Minos; only of becoming a warrior. You know that he would be well-used in Medusa's service. If he were taken into training with the battalion..."

Nissa looked up, hope in her eyes. "Could you...Would that be possible?"

Meriope turned to look at Acastus, who had been sulking since his mother's interruption. "He is a strong boy," she said. "His father has given him some training already; he has skilful hands and his balance is good. Primarch Ilena tells me that a Primarch's aide should have an apprentice," she added. "What do you say, Acastus?" She raised a questioning eyebrow at the boy, who turned to his mother.

Nissa stood silent for a long moment. She stared at Meriope in amazement, and then turned her eyes to Acastus. "I...Answer the Primus, Acastus," she said.

"Acastus?" Meriope repeated. "Unless of course...you are ashamed to train under a woman's guidance?"

Acastus' eyes widened into awestruck saucers. "Of course I am not...I am _honoured_ , Primus."

Meriope smiled to recognise some of her own awkwardness in the boy's reaction. "You need not call me Primus," she told him. "You should address me as..." she paused for a heartbeat, to enjoy the realisation that she was about to become a Jaffa master. "Call me Tal ma'te," she finished. "And I am doing you no honour that you have not earned."

Acastus bowed. "Thank you, Tal ma'te," he said. "But it _is_ an honour for me to train under the finest warrior on Kritos."

Meriope blushed. "I am far from the finest warrior in Akrotiri, let alone on Kritos," she assured him.

"That is not what my father believed," Acastus said.

For a moment, Meriope thought that her heart might burst with pride.

 

It was, Meriope felt, a simple fact of life among the Jaffa that, as they walked always hand-in-hand with death, so always new life followed close behind them. Rathe was dead, but his son was very much alive. Not long after Acastus joined the company of apprentices, this dichotomy was brought home to her once more, when another young life was placed in her hands. This too happened over a dinner, this time in the house of her lieutenant, Glaucus, briefly her section second and now her own aide. Her hostess, Glaucus' wife, Agema, seemed nervous and Meriope wondered what stories Glaucus had been telling about her.

Glaucus and Agema were both born in Kalipolis, a city along the coast road from Akrotiri and as they ate, Agema explained to Meriope the Kalipolitan office of yat'ka. Rathe and Nissa had followed Halicarnasan custom and attended to the religious and spiritual education of their own children, this was not the way in other regions. In the capital city of Knossos, for example, all children were educated from the age of six at the Temple of Minos. In Kalipolis, the parents would choose an older friend – a trusted friend or teacher – to instruct their newborn child; the yat'ka.

Meriope was somewhat baffled by this discourse on the child-rearing traditions of Kalipolis, but at the end of the meal, all was made clear. In another room of the house, a child began to cry and Agema left the table with such rapidity that she could only be the child's mother.

"It is many years since I was so successfully ambushed," Meriope noted.

Glaucus looked baffled. "You did not know?"

Meriope blushed. "I confess I had forgotten. I feel rather foolish; it returns to me now that I approved your leave to return to Kalipolis for the birth."

"Yes," Glaucus replied. "Although Akrotiri is our home now, we both felt that our child should be ‘of Kalipolis', as we are." He looked towards the door and his face lit up with pride. "And here he is."

Agema returned to the table and sat, a baby cradled in her arms. Meriope put out her hand and the child gripped her finger.

"He is strong," Meriope noted, gently releasing his grip. She felt a pang as she examined his tiny hand. She and her husband had never been able to have children and she envied other Jaffa their families. "What is his name?"

"Nestor," Agema replied. "Of course, he will not take much instruction yet, but we would both be honoured if you would agree to be his yat'ka."

"Once he is grown, he will need a strong hand," Glaucus said. "How could it be otherwise with his mother?"

With a cry of mock fury, Agema snatched an apple from the table and threw it at her husband. He caught the fruit with ease and took an idle bite.

"I trust that you can drive all traces of his father's beastly streak from him," Agema told Meriope.

Glaucus laughed. "I beg you not to, Primus," he said. "After all, it seems this beastly nature brought me his mother."

Agema blushed and Meriope chuckled.

"Why not hold him?" Agema suggested. With just a trace of reluctance, she laid her son in Meriope's arms and moved the warrior's hands to support the child's head and body.

Nestor gave voice to a sudden wail. Meriope was gripped by a sudden panic. "What...What should I do?" she asked. In desperation, she joggled the child up and down, as she had seen Nissa do with her babies.

Agema stood once more. "Perhaps..." she began, but then, as suddenly as he had begun, Nestor stopped crying.

"There! He has taken to you, Primus," Glaucus declared.

"Perhaps..." Agema began again, but her husband interrupted by catching her wrist and pulling her towards him. She allowed herself to be drawn into his lap and kissed Glaucus soundly. "Pig," she muttered. "You see why I need to know Nestor is in the hands of a yat'ka who can handle this brute?" she added.

Glaucus kissed his wife again and brushed his hand through her hair. "And do you see why I wish him every chance to find a wife like my own?"

"You flatter me," Meriope protested. "But I do not think...I have never been charged with such a responsibility before."

"I trust you, Primus Meriope," Glaucus assured her. "Agema?"

"He does like you," Agema pointed out, "and it is because of you that he has a father. I can think of no other to ask."

*

After a gruelling, greater month of her new duties, Meriope was once more given leave to return to Halicarnasus. Although it had only been a few weeks since her last visit, she felt years older. It was with a glad heart that she rode into Market and through to her husband's farm. Damos met her at the gate and Criton came out to take her horse.

"You've come a long way," Damos remarked, cradling Meriope in his arms.

"Mm," she replied. "But I still like it best when I'm here at home."

"I miss you."

"You could move to Akrotiri," Meriope suggested. "We could afford a fine house now."

"What about the farm."

"We could hire more hands to work with Criton," Meriope said, but she knew already what the answer would be.

"I can not leave."

"I know; just as you know I have to stay in the city."

Damos kissed her. "I know. Let us speak of it no more." He kissed Meriope again. "I love you."

"I love you," she replied.

"How long?"

"Just a week."

"Then why are we standing here, talking?"

*

The Gorgons were an élite force, in a much truer sense than the Taurus Guard. They were not merely the finest Jaffa warriors in Medusa's service. Simply to be the best was not sufficient; each and every Gorgon had to meet their Captain's exacting standards. This made them one of the deadliest and most feared companies in the Empire, but it meant that they were slow to recover from set-backs such as their losses on Aeolchis. For ten years, the company was below strength; for ten years, the regulars grew in numbers, but few had the skill and devotion to become Gorgons. The only bright side that Meriope could see was that the company remained in such relative disfavour that they were dispatched on few missions of great risk and importance.

Slowly, however, their numbers recovered, as young warriors such as Acastus joined their ranks. A decade after the debacle of Aeolchis, Ilena summoned Meriope to her inner office and informed her that she was at last reforming the third section of the Gorgons.

"It is high time that we had a third section in truth as well as on papyrus," she explained, "and moreover it is time that you had your own section. For my aide to be a squad leader is becoming an embarrassment."

"How will the company be divided?" Meriope asked.

"The first and second sections will retain their current responsibility for main assault and primary defence, respectively. The third section will be formed with an eye to reconnaissance and skirmishing; you have always shown a flair for those."

"Yes, Ilena."

"I have been considering your report on company logistics in respect of this reorganisation," the Primarch added. "I must admit that, although I have long known of your interest in this area, I did not expect the report to be so...voluminous. Your recommendations are unorthodox."

"The Captain encourages us to think beyond tradition," Meriope replied. "It was tradition – and in particular our traditional technologies – which failed us on Aeolchis."

"In what regard?"

"Communication," Meriope explained. "Hand signs and horns are insufficient. We need a means of communication is reliable, immediate and secure; something akin to the system used to maintain contact between a ha'tak vessel and its udajeet squadrons, but one which can connect our section primes and squad leaders."

"But what system could we use?" Ilena asked. "If the Captain wishes to communicate with her gliders in the field she must have an aide to carry the equipment. It renders them both vulnerable. If we were to assign a bearer to every squad leader..."

"Clearly we need something more compact than a stripped-down ship-to-ship array," Meriope agreed. "I have spoken with the ma'shen and even with the ma'djet at Stymphalia, but the design of communication systems is not their field of expertise; they simply copy age-old designs."

"I shall speak to the Captain," Ilena promised. "There may be something we can...acquire. In the meantime, I must ask you to focus on your new responsibilities. The Captain will see this report, but she requires a skirmishing section ready for tunnel combat within the twelve days."

"I understand, Ilena," Meriope said, although the time constraint was daunting. "Have you chosen the section?"

Ilena shook her head. "In think that you should be capable of attending to the disposition of the company by now, and so I have decided to delegate that duty."

"Thank you, Ilena," Meriope said, stifling a groan. Ilena's ‘favours' almost invariably added to her already substantial workload. There were days when she felt like slapping the Primarch, but she never complained; it was not for her to question Medusa's commander.

Ilena smiled the small smile that hinted to Meriope that she knew just how hard it was to meet her demands. Meriope often felt sure that Ilena was testing her, always pushing her to see if she would react with anger or despair. At other times she could not believe that the Primarch would expend so much effort just to antagonise her.

"In other matters," Ilena went on, "what were the spoils from our raid on Jedhara?"

"Most of the treasures and the cache of naquadah were taken by Minos," Meriope reported. "Just tribute for his benevolent aid in battle," she added, with a roll of her eyes.

"Of course," Ilena agreed. "So what was our final share?"

"For our blood, gold and jewels worth about five thousand sheshtas; furnishing and fabrics worth ten thousand more; three-hundred-and-fifty drachms of naquadah; and weapons for three hundred. The weapons are not up to standard, but the ma'shen will strip them for parts. In all, the takings from this raid will just about cover the costs of another raid; so long as Minos does not raise his prices."

"You grow bold, Meriope," Ilena cautioned. "The God-King deals with us in the justness of his infinite wisdom; you know that."

"Of course, Ilena. He is our lord, master and god," she added, wearily.

"And we must not forget it," Ilena agreed, her words more a warning than a rebuke. "Do you plan to include your student in your section?"

"I do. The boy is a natural skirmisher and after ten years of training I know his mind as well as my own. He understands my thinking just as well; if I had two squads of Acastus I would need no form of communication. He will not, I think, ever lead a section, but as a squad leader he will do very well in time."

"Oh, I do not question the boy's skill," Ilena assured Meriope. "I merely wondered if you would be comfortable with the boy in your field command."

"Why should I not?"

"He will take risks for you, Meriope?"

"I would take risks for you, Ilena."

"You would take risks in my service," Ilena corrected. "His concern for you is of a more _personal_ kind and I know that it would hurt you if Rathe's son were to die for you."

"Ilena; I do not understand what you are saying."

Ilena sighed. "I suppose that it also escaped your attention that the father desired you as well?"

"Rathe loved his wife," Meriope declared, firmly.

"I do not doubt it, but he also desired you. I doubt that he ever stopped wanting you from the day he first kissed you."

"You know..."

"I know a great deal about my troops. You have uncovered such information for me in the past; does it truly surprise you that I have made such inquiries regarding you?"

"But Acastus...He is little more than a child."

"Nevertheless...Well; I shall leave this matter to your discretion; do you believe that this will make him reckless?"

Meriope thought for a moment. "No," she said at last. "I have fought beside him before. He is a consummate warrior; in battle he is not ruled by emotion."

Ilena nodded. "Very well," she said. "And who knows; it may be convenient if you grow homesick..."

"I have sworn oaths!" Meriope snapped, sharply. She regretted her reaction at once. "I...My apologies, Primarch; I meant no offence."

Ilena raised her hand to show that none was taken. "I understand that lying with another man is something more serious than tumbling another woman."

"It is," Meriope agreed, "but that is not the reason, Ilena. I would not..." She stopped again, aware that she should not seek to instruct her Primarch.

Ilena nodded, slowly. "What is your husband's name?"

"Damos, Primarch."

"He is a lucky man."

"He might not agree."

Ilena shrugged. "Is there another in his bed?"

"No!" Meriope half-stood, then sat back down, remembering herself. "Or...Or not that I know."

"Put it from your mind," Ilena said. "You have your duty; discharge it."

Meriope stood and bowed. "Yes, Ilena."

"One moment," Ilena said. She took a strip of papyrus, wrote a short message and sealed it in a message tube. "Take this to the aviary, immediately," she ordered. "It is to be dispatched to Halicarnasus for Criton's attention."

"For Criton...yes, Ilena," Meriope said, putting doubts and questions aside.

 

Meriope had a late night. When at last she retired to her squad room – as Primus, she had her own room, but none of the section primes used their private quarters for sleep – she found a sealed note on her pillow. It read:

_I apologise for casting doubt into your mind. You husband is true and I do not think that he doubts his good fortune._

The message was signed with an elaborate capital iota. Meriope burned the note and slept well that night.

*

In the morning, Meriope looked at the lists that she had made the night before. She had at first been wary of the responsibility of organising the company into sections, but Meriope quickly realised that not only did she know all of the Gorgons well enough to make these decisions, but it had significant advantages. No longer could she be plagued by knowing that the warrior she felt that she needed was denied her. It was a rare freedom for a Jaffa to have complete control of her personnel.

First, she had made four divisions of the company: Those skilled in assault tactics; those stalwart in defence; those well-versed in stealth and reconnaissance; and those who stood out in no one field. These all-rounders would be distributed primarily between the first two sections, as Meriope intended to keep her own section small and mobile. She was determined to be fair in her division, but she still placed many of her closest friends in her own section. These included Acastus, but also her trusted second, Glaucus, and her piercer, Calibos. In fact, her command squad was virtually unchanged from the one she had led on Aeolchis.

Later that day, Meriope asked Arachne to come and see her, so that she could explain the disposition.

"Obviously, you answer first to the Captain," she said, "but in as much as you belong to the hierarchy of the company, I am assigning you a squad command in my section; they will be there to support you if you should need it. Your second, Giges, is a good warrior. You will like him, but more importantly he is capable of leading the squad when you need to go alone."

"You are a generous friend, Meriope," Arachne said.

Meriope laughed. "I know that the Captain values your skills; I would be a fool not to do the same."

Arachne smiled, but there was a shadow in the expression.

"Arachne?"

"I dream about my own death," her friend admitted. "A few months ago I was almost killed; ever since...I do not fear death, but I believe that death shall soon come for me. I can feel the weave of the fates drawing close around me."

Meriope was shocked. "Arachne; you must not talk this way."

"I...I have killed so many, old friend. I have killed people in their homes; in the bosom of their family I have brought them death." She sighed, wearily. "It is not a warrior's work that I do and I believe that I have shortened my own life by cloaking myself in so much death."

"Foolish superstitions," Meriope assured her. "You know better than to credit such notions."

"Simple sense, then. I take more risks even than you and I have no one to drag me to my feet if I fall."

Meriope took Arachne's hands. "Across the bourn of Hades, we will come for you, my darling. The Gorgons will not let you fall alone, beloved."

Arachne wrapped her arms around her friend. "You are kind, but it has never mattered..."

"It has _always_ mattered," Meriope insisted.

 

Meriope was deeply troubled by Arachne's words. While she did not feel the same superstitious fear that might once have gripped her, she could see that her friend's spirit was gripped by a shadow. In all the years of their friendship, Arachne had been searching for something, for a love that she felt had been denied her. Despite her beauty, the younger Jaffa had experienced great difficulty finding and keeping a lover; Meriope wished that she could have helped, but Arachne's isolation was in part self-imposed.

Just at this moment, however, Meriope had no time to consider this. With only one week to complete the selection and training of her section for the complex business of tunnel fighting, she had no time to consider anything else. And the more she thought about it, the more Meriope worried. Tunnel fighting – confined, close-quarters assault – meant one of two things. The lesser of the two evils would be a raid against an enemy ha'tak vessel, but that would involve the entire company; all three sections acting together. But if it were not a ship that was to be assaulted, that left only one possibility; a possibility that did not bear thinking about, but that it was Meriope's duty to think of.

An attack against a Tok'ra stronghold.

This prospect frightened Meriope. She had heard stories of battles fought in the Tok'ra tunnels before; the Taurus Guards called the renegades demons and swore that they could melt into the rock at will and reshape their tunnels around themselves. Even though Meriope knew some of this to be no more than superstition, she did not discount the tales entirely. Their tenacity and ferocity in combat were beyond question; any group that could set themselves against the Goa'uld and not be wiped out in a matter of months must be a force to be reckoned with, after all.

Whatever the temperament of the enemy, what really concerned her were the tunnels. Even allowing for legend and hearsay, Meriope knew that the Tok'ra must possess technology which allowed them to open passages through solid rock at a moment's notice, or close them just as quickly, killing those trapped within as surely as a knife through the heart. Moreover, any complex of tunnels must favour the defender, rather than the attacker.

These were concerns which Meriope addressed when she designed a training scenario for the Maze. Based loosely on the design of the Labyrinth at Knossos, Medusa's Maze was one of the battalion's many training areas. It was a network of corridors which could be reshaped and dressed up in holographic projections to simulate multiple environments for close-quarters drill. It was perfect for Meriope's needs; so perfect that she had to wonder if Medusa had created it with the Tok'ra in mind.

Meriope programmed the Maze to produce a set of dark and deceptive tunnels, prone to collapse and rearrangement. Within this disorienting, claustrophobic environment, Meriope drilled her squads against groups of Gorgons and regulars who had full control of the tunnel layout. In this scenario, even the regulars presented the third section with a challenge; Meriope quailed to think what it might be like to fight the Tok'ra in similar circumstances. After three days of this exercise the section was becoming accustomed to both the methods of tunnel fighting and the eccentricities of the scenario, but although they were unfazed by the changes in backdrop and began to react swiftly to the shifting tunnels, the casualties were still higher than Meriope was happy with.

The section had just completed a sweep of a large tunnel complex with only five dead and seven injured when Medusa came to inspect their progress.

"Very good, Primus," she commended.

"Not good enough," Meriope replied. "This is a new kind of fighting for us, My Captain. The To...The enemy will doubtless be more accustomed to it than their regulars. If we only had another month in which to train..."

"Alas, we do not," Medusa interrupted. "I do not set this timetable and the attack _must_ be carried out within two days. I have detailed intelligence regarding a particular Tok'ra outpost and I know that it is being abandoned as we speak. If we strike in the last day of the evacuation then the security will be at a minimum. There is material there that we must seize; we shall not have a better opportunity."

Meriope shrugged. "A half-abandoned system _would_ be easier," she admitted. "I will continue to train the section at full resistance, however."

"Naturally."

"I have one concern still."

"Yes, Primus?"

"Forgive my impertinence, Tal ma'te, but surely any research material or sensitive technology will have already been moved to the new facility."

Medusa smiled, proud of her student. "Do not fear on that account," she assured Meriope. "You are quite correct, but that which we seek is not the result of recent research."

"Then what...?"

Medusa held up her hand, signalling an end to the exchange. "Two days remain, Primus. I have now programmed the Maze to replicate a Tok'ra tunnel system. You must be ready for the assault. I shall tell you then what it is that we seek; if it is needed."

Meriope bowed in acknowledgement, swallowing her frustration. "Yes, My Captain."

"Medusa spoke briefly to Phineas, the Prime of the third company of regulars, before she left. As the Gorgons practiced in the crystalline surroundings of the Tok'ra tunnels, they found the enemy moving with uncanny and deadly coordination and it was all that Meriope could do to withdraw with any surviving troops in the first encounter.

"Something is amiss," Glaucus said.

Acastus nodded his agreement. "No-one can plan such an accurate defence in advance."

Meriope grinned in sudden understanding. It was a burdensome realisation, as it meant that any casualties of this assault would be on her head. If she were right, however, then it would be worth the risk.

"Come, my friends," she said. "To the field again, but this time anticipate such accuracy. When one sees you, assume that all have seen you."

Glaucus and Acastus looked confused, but obeyed without question. That time, they did better. Meriope gathered her squad leaders and briefed them on her thoughts. The third time, they were able to accomplish their objective, although the cost was high.

"Better," Meriope said. "Now; let us try to stay alive."

*

Meriope had made her reconnaissance section smaller than the assault or defence groups, not only to maximise their mobility in combat, but also for the sake of _Penelope_. It was a peculiarity of the Olympian culture to name their starships and Meriope had given the al'kesh cruiser that she had captured from Aeolchis the name of the legendary first queen of Akrotiri. Since the massacre on Aeolchis, the al'kesh had been refitted by Icarus and his ma'djet, according to Meriope's specifications, to act as an armoured, long-range troop transport.

The third section was planned around the al'kesh. There were twelve warriors in Meriope's command squad three squads with seven warriors each and a platoon of fifteen commandos. With the crew of the _Penelope_ , the section numbered sixty Jaffa, compared with over two hundred in each of the first two sections and three hundred in a section of regulars.

 

The flight from Kritos to the remote world of Janek was tense. The section sat in grim silence in the cruiser's functional transport bays, while their officers attended a briefing in Meriope's equally Spartan cabin. Laertes was the grizzled leader of the commando platoon, a veteran of more than fifty battles. Arachne's young second, Giges, would be leading the first squad, designated as advance scouts; the other general squads were led by two other young Jaffa, Lexos and Deineira. Having chosen to accompany this mission, Medusa was also present, with Ilena acting as her bodyguard, but she stood aside and allowed Meriope to lead the briefing.

"The key lies in trapping the ring frequency," Meriope was explaining. "If that can be done we will secure our entry and force the Tok'ra to scatter for their escape tunnels. They will pose less of a threat if they are divided than if they are converging on a single location."

"What if we do not secure the chamber?" Deineira asked. Meriope liked this young woman; she was thoughtful and inventive and not one to trust too far in any plan. Acastus spoke highly of her skill and Meriope – who remained far from convinced by Ilena's suspicions – believed that her apprentice regarded Deineira with some affection.

"It is the only exit anywhere close to the Chappa'ai," Meriope replied. "If we can not secure the chamber we shall use a low-level bombardment to scare the enemy from hiding while the ground force lies in ambush."

"But they could still scatter into the woods," Lexos noted.

"And probably will once they realise," Meriope agreed. "At some point, I expect them to run and we will let them. Our goal is not to capture or exterminate the Tok'ra in this base; we are here to capture a number of their communication devices. Arachne could of course steal a number of such devices, but the Tok'ra could track the devices; this attack is to provide an opportunity."

"Technological espionage," Laertes sighed, nostalgically. "That takes me back."

"It has indeed been some time since we were forced to expand our knowledge in this way," Medusa agreed, "but this lies beyond the experience of our technicians. It is possible that Tek udajeet Icarus might know something, but I am wary of approaching him."

"Surely he would not betray you," Ilena said. "His devotion to you is known to all."

"Perhaps so," Medusa laughed, "but he is loyal, ultimately, to the God-King and since Aeolchis...My reputation ultimately benefited greatly from that episode, but that has increased Minos' paranoia. He has been watching me ever since," she added. "Now that we are secure from surveillance, I can infirm you, my loyal commanders, that Minos has employed agents to spy upon me."

"That is monstrous!" Deineira spat in outrage.

"It is to be expected," Ilena assured her.

Laertes nodded his agreement. "Do you think that the Captain has no eyes in the God-King's palace?"

"This is true," Medusa assured them. "However, when Minos attempts to suborn my trusted warriors, I find that my temper is tested. He may find before long that he has inspired the very act of rebellion that he seeks to prevent."

"Your warriors?" Meriope was aghast. "Are you sure, My Captain?"

"Absolutely," Medusa replied. "There is one in this room who has, for some years, taken money in exchange for regular reports on my activities. Young Giges here."

There was a furious outcry as the commanders leaped to their feet. Some drew knives and turned on Giges; others held them back. Meriope caught hold of Deineira as Ilena pinned Laertes, but there were more attacking Giges than defending him and he would have died before he could react if Medusa herself had not placed herself in front of him.

"Calm yourselves," the Goa'uld instructed, her voice calm and placid. "Calm yourselves and be seated, please." She paused and waited while her commanders slowly settled, sheathed their blades and sat.

"I am disappointed," Medusa continued. "Did you not know that one of my Gorgons would never turn on me so coldly? Young Giges is wise for his years; he accepted the traitor's coin, knowing that if he were not King Minos' agent then some other would be. For six years, he has told the God-King's spy masters exactly what I have bidden him tell them."

Giges bowed his head. "I am sorry for deceiving you all," he told his comrades.

"That was my decision," Medusa assured them. "It was important that you know this, but it will not be spoken of again. Meriope; pray continue."

Meriope nodded. "Our goals on this mission: We will secure the communication devices; we must also secure a central communications terminal. Additional objectives are to identify and secure the mechanism by which the Tok'ra make and modify their tunnels and to avoid unnecessary casualties."

"Pay close attention to that last," Medusa added. "I shall need all of you if Minos should raise his hand against me."

"We shall not fail you, Captain," Meriope promised.

Medusa nodded.

"We shall approach the planet and enter a geostationary orbit just below the Tok'ra's primary, short-range sensor horizon," Meriope explained. "The wide-area and long-range sensors will be unable to resolve our aspect during the brief period when we must drop the cloak to release the scouts in descent pods. Once Giges' squad is away, the cruiser will draw back and wait.

"The scouts will bypass the base and secure the Chappa'ai. Arachne has already infiltrated the Tok'ra base and will attend to capturing the ring frequencies. She will use the rings to signal the _Penelope_. Of course, this will reveal her presence to the Tok'ra and so we will need to move into position swiftly; Laertes platoon will descend first and secure the ring chamber. Once the other squads have followed, Laertes and Lexos will sweep west through the tunnels; my command squad will sweep east. Deineira, your squad must hold the ring chamber."

"We will be exposed," Deineira noted. "Will my squad alone suffice?"

"You will if you collapse most of the tunnels leading into the chamber," Meriope assured her. "You will carry remote charges to do this, and to mine the open tunnels."

"But what if _you_ become trapped in the sealed tunnels?" Deineira pressed. "If we..."

"We shall take the risk," Meriope interrupted. "The Tok'ra are prepared for flight; they will have many doors."

"Yes, Primus," Deineira replied, her trust in her commander allaying her misgivings.

"The keys to this attack will be surprise and speed," Meriope reminded them. "If the scouts or Arachne are detected, our sole concern will be to extract them and then depart. In a pitched fight, the Tok'ra will flank and destroy us. Be swift and remain mobile and we shall have the run of their compound.

"We shall fall back to the rings half-an-hour after the assault begins and evacuate to the _Penelope_."

Medusa nodded approvingly.

"Are there any further questions?" Meriope asked her squad leaders.

There were none.

 

The Tok'ra tunnels were as bad as Meriope could have feared. They were less enclosed, perhaps, but the luminescence of the walls seemed dimmer than it had done in simulation and the particular hue of the glow played havoc with the light enhancers in the Gorgons' helmets. It was fortunate that they had trained for low-light combat or they would have been as good as blinded.

The Tok'ra themselves had proven both cunning and tenacious. They had refused to break, which Meriope had feared above all, and had almost trapped the Gorgons by collapsing the ring chamber itself. It was only Deineira's quick-thinking and selfless courage that had averted disaster, but although her actions had saved the rest of the force, they had condemned her to a terrible death. When one of the Tok'ra had made a dash for the chamber heart with a crystal in his hand, she had wrestled him back. The crystal had been dropped and it had triggered the tunnel's collapse. Now Deineira and her foe were locked in an eternal struggle, frozen in the stone that closed around them.

With their numbers so low already, the loss of Deineira – and of four others – was a bitter blow. Medusa seemed particularly effected by Deineira's death, perhaps because there was no body for her to honour. Acastus also mourned for Deineira, although for all her experience, Meriope could not say if they were a lover's tears that he shed, or a friend's.

It was a slim comfort indeed for Meriope to know that the mission had been successful.

*

Meriope sat alone in her cabin on the _Penelope_ , long after the ship had docked with Medusa's command vessel, the _Hyksos_.

"You should remember what you are."

Meriope turned to the doorway, where Medusa stood, watching her with her ancient eyes.

"You are a Gorgon and a leader of warriors, Meriope. You can not afford the luxury of grieving at your leisure. Moreover, the victory that you attained today was cheaply bought and of great worth. Your warriors have done you great service and they deserve to see your pride in them."

"It was not I who saved them," Meriope replied.

"You are not to blame for every death under your command," Medusa said, sharply. "Try to bear that burden and you will drive yourself insane. Deineira was a fine warrior and her loss will hurt us, but she is beyond all hope and despair now. Those who live are not so fortunate and it is they who are our care. On Kritos we shall mourn, you and I and Ilena, for what was lost. Here and now, we must give thanks for what was not lost; and for what was gained."

Medusa stepped forward and laid a Tok'ra communicator on Meriope's desk. "Many lives will be saved by these," she said. She laid a crystal beside the device. "And the secret of the Tok'ra tunnels may one day serve us well."

"Meriope stood and dried her eyes. "I am sorry..." she began.

"Do not apologise, for you have not done wrong, my dear Jaffa. It is merely that the time is not right for this."

"I feel numb inside," Meriope admitted.

"You have not sent anyone to die before now," Medusa replied. "How could you expect to feel otherwise? It will pass, but it will remind you always that you can not save everyone. Work will help you to cope and you shall have plenty." She tapped the communicator. "We have a new weapon, Meriope, and it shall be your part to determine how best to use it."

"Yes, My Captain," Meriope agreed, ashamed to find that her sorrow was almost immediately eclipsed by the intellectual challenge.

"But before that, other things must be done," Medusa went on. "You must tell the warriors that they have done well and on our return we must attend to our dead. After that I have another mission for you. I need more cloth for the Gorgons' robes; you will take a cargo ship to bring that cloth from your mother's house. At the same time, I grant you and all your section five days leave from service."

"Thank you, My Captain."

Medusa laid a hand on Meriope's tattoo. "I tend to the needs of those who tend to mine," she said. "Renew your love and rediscover your joy, my beloved Jaffa. Return to me whole and strong."

Meriope looked at her Captain with eyes that shone with love and devotion. At that moment, neither threat nor fear could have wrung better service or greater sacrifice from Meriope.

"I will, Medusa," she promised. "I will."


End file.
